


The Relic of the Gerudo Labyrinth

by withcameraandpen



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Soooo many ocs, The Mummy AU, but without the imperialism, kind of, mad archaeologist zelda, traditional zelda dungeons babey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcameraandpen/pseuds/withcameraandpen
Summary: Desperate to restore Hyrule to its past glory, Zelda searches the ruins of the South Lomei Labyrinth for a powerful relic, when she and loyal Link become trapped in a dungeon underneath it. They must work together to solve puzzles, battle monsters, find this great power, and ultimately escape, all while Zelda reconciles her steadfast love for a totally-changed Link.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	1. Desert Blues

The Gerudo sun beat down on the windswept dunes just outside the shade mercifully granted by Gerudo Canyon. Zelda stood at the head of the path that opened into the desert, unable to suppress the chill that ran through her as she gazed toward the glistening oasis of Kara Kara Bazaar.

She remembered that day at the Bazaar clear as a bell. Sprightly Yiga assassins appeared in a burst of red prayer flags and rushed towards her, deadly sickles flashing in the sunlight. She tried to run but didn’t get far, tripping over her own feet and landing sprawled in the sand. A shadow fell over her, and she rolled over and stared into the inverted Sheikah eye--

“Princess.”

Link’s low, firm voice broke through her thoughts. Zelda turned and found her knight, just as loyal now as he was then, standing at her side and watching her thoughtfully. That was new, she had come to notice as they traveled across Hyrule after vanquishing Calamity Ganon: he remained largely stoic, but he was starting to freely express his feelings in front of her and others. It was disarming, in both the good way and the bad.

He held two bottles of pale blue elixir and offered one to her. “Just whipped this up. Our current dose is about to run out.”

“Thank you, Link.” They toasted their bottles and downed the Chilly Elixir in one go. At first, Zelda thought she could ration their protective potions since supplies would be few and far between, but the desert heat had melted her restraint into nothing after the first few days. The elixir’s effects were almost instantaneous as she felt the dry heat become a little less oppressive, a little more tolerable. Good thing, because she couldn’t imagine how much longer she could wait out here. 

Link seemed similarly impatient, glancing at the supply sled tethered at the edge of the canyon. “I’m getting hungry. No sign, still?” he asked, wiping his brow on his sleeve. 

She shook her head. “It’s unlike Samantha to run late. Do you think they’re in trouble?”

“It’s possible, but they can handle it.” He took the empty bottles and tucked them in his pack. “I couldn’t make enough for the others. I hope they’re making do.”

“We may spend our days cooped up in laboratories, but researchers are hardy folk, especially when they’re on the scent. That reminds me, Purah’s really putting the Sheikah Slate, and Symin, through its paces.”

As much as Zelda enjoyed investigating every inch of the South Lomei Labyrinth with all the scholarly expertise Hyrule had to offer, it was her administrative training that allowed her to launch her expedition in the first place. Zelda had spent the morning at Gerudo Canyon Stable, reading and replying to correspondences with Purah, Impa, and Riju. Purah detailed the progress of her research on the Sheikah Slate, and Riju was checking on the appearance of any Gerudo artifacts (which she would take possession of, according to their agreement to allow a royal archaeological expedition in her territory).

As for Impa, she was acting as regent for the Hylian throne while Zelda was away; hardly an ideal arrangement, considering Impa’s age, but there was simply no one else Zelda trusted to run Hyrule in her absence. With Paya there to assist in the day-to-day tasks, she was sure Impa would fare just fine. And who better to help restore Hyrule to its past magnificence than someone who remembered exactly what it was like once, and has worked her whole life to protect its ideals?

She noticed Link watching her with a peculiar gaze, part reticent and part warm. “Princess, may I ask where this sudden fascination in history came from? My memory might still be foggy, but I only remember your interests lying in engineering and mechanics.”

“You’re correct, Link. Truthfully, I can’t say why history and archaeology draw me so.” The Divine Beasts were excavated under her father’s rule. Perhaps there was something that, in wishing to keep his memory alive, she wanted to follow in his footsteps with her own scholarly touch. “I only know that it does. And with the Divine Beasts and other Sheikah technology proving so effective at saving Hyrule, I want to see what other relics can help us in the future.”

Link’s brow furrowed as he turned away from her, folding his arms and gazing out to the desert horizon. “I see. I was surprised, is all, to see how drawn you are to the past.”

Zelda recognized the cracks in his stoic shield. “What is it, Link? You have something to say. I am not my father. I won’t scold you if I don’t like what I hear.”

“It’s nothing.” He was really making a point not to look back at her. She noticed his eyes sweeping the horizon for dangers, alert but half-hearted. The Calamity was over, and he’d thinned the Yiga Clan considerably. There was nothing to fear, right?

They heard the sound of wooden wheels rattling over stone. They turned and looked into the canyon, where a wagon trundled up the way escorted by royal guards. The wagon was driven by Celia and Harry, two of the finest cooks in Hyrule who Link recommended to fill the royal chef post. The wagon was weighed down by salted meat, corn, shrooms, and elixir ingredients. It was enough to feed a princess, a dozen archaeologists, and one particularly gluttonous appointed knight.

Zelda could practically hear Link’s stomach rumbling as the wagon drew closer and closer until it eventually pulled to a stop before them. Celia and Harry hopped down and bowed to her in greeting. “Good day, Your Highness,” said Harry, looking tired. “Please, forgive us for the delay. There were some processing issues.”

“Issues?” Link’s brow furrowed. The fingers of his left hand twitched. “What issues were these?”

Samantha, leader of this escort and third-in-command of the Hylian royal guard, came forward. Samantha was one of those tall, serious-looking warriors that seemed like nothing could rattle her. “We accidentally earned the ire of a Hinox. No injuries and no cargo lost but the wagon sustained some damage, so we had to stop to repair it.”

Link’s brow furrowed in alarm. “Where was the Hinox?”

“Just past the Digdogg Bridges.”

“I took care of that one before we created this supply route,” he replied. “Maybe a spot that appeals to one Hinox will appeal to others.”

Samantha shrugged, sweeping one stray hair back under her cap. “It amazes me a Hinox can even reach that island.”

“They’re smarter than they look,” said Link with a knowing look. “They always get wise if you shoot them in the eye too much.”

“Yes.” Samantha frowned, her face falling into uncertainty. “Yes, exactly that.”

Zelda gestured to the other guards in the escort. “Please assist Celia and Harry in unloading the supplies. Our sled is right this way. You’re lucky our scholars forewent lunch today, but you must take care to ensure a delay like this doesn’t happen again.”

The supply sled was a brilliant Gerudo invention Zelda was thrilled to adopt for the purposes of their excavation. Built for transporting goods across the desert and into Gerudo Town, it rather resembled a boat, with a sunken floor, guard rails, and hooks to help fasten the supplies. The supply sled harnessed the power of sand seals to whisk it across the desert. They were such agile yet strong creatures, and intelligent, too. They knew how much they were needed, because they acted like total divas.

The party began transferring the supplies from wagon to sled. Zelda bent to examine the damaged axle of the back wheels. It had been fastened rather admirably with cloth scraps torn from clothing, she guessed. “Celia?”

An auburn-haired head popped up from behind the pile. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Make sure to report the damage when you return to the castle. The mechanics will be able to repair the wagon more substantially.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Zelda straightened up as Samantha returned to the cart, stretched her arms for several loaves of bread, and then eyed Link as he walked over. Indecision flickered over her face, and then she said, “Captain, there’s something I wanted to mention about that Hinox encounter. I’m not sure anyone noticed but me.”

“What is it?”

“I believe there were Yiga Clan members when we met that Hinox.”

Zelda’s heart hammered. The Yiga were still active? They harassed Link all through his quest to save Hyrule--and _harassed_ really was the best word to use, since they seemed to annoy Link more than truly endanger him. But Link was Link, gifted with natural ability and Sheikah technology. Her guards were capable, but they weren’t divinely blessed, and they had a quarry to protect, too! Link had cut many down, but the survivors could be hell for other, less-gifted people.

Zelda migrated to Link’s side and said, “If there’s Yiga activity, I want to know about it.”

Samantha bowed her head. “Of course, Your Highness. Even now, I cannot be completely sure of what I saw. It was so strange.”

Link folded his arms. “Just tell us what happened.”

“Very well. It was when we ran across the Hinox at the suspension bridges. The escort split up, with half of us fighting the beast while the others got the wagon across the second bridge. I was in the half fighting it, and my comrades were down when the Hinox was on me, when it suddenly roared, clapped its hand over its eye, and toppled to the ground.”

“Who shot it?” 

“I don’t know. At the time, I had no idea what was happening, and I didn’t know the trick about its eye. I only realized that’s what happened when you mentioned it.”

Zelda looked at the other guards, but Link confirmed what she was looking for. “None of you are armed with bows.”

“Exactly. And when I looked around to try and figure out what had just happened, I saw the slightest glimpse of red garb from up on Mount Nabooru. Then it vanished.” 

She shook her head, as if unsure of her own testimony. “It sounds odd, but I believe the Yiga shot the Hinox to help us escape.”

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Samantha,” said Link sternly. “Please continue loading the supply sled.”

“Yes, Captain.” She grabbed the loaves of bread, turned on her heel, and marched away. Zelda took Link by the arm and pulled him further away from the wagon, out of earshot of anyone. “What do you think?”

Link scratched his chin. “It’s concerning.”

“It’s baffling, is what it is,” she replied. “The armor and the location sounds enough like the Yiga, but the behavior doesn’t. Why would the Yiga help them escape the Hinox? Perhaps they didn’t know the wagon was ours.”

“With half a dozen guards wearing the royal crest?” He shook his head. “If they can shoot a Hinox’s eye from Mount Nabooru, they can recognize the royal guard uniform. They knew it was us.”

“But why help us, then? The Yiga Clan’s goal is to aid the Calamity. I don’t see how protecting our shipment of supplies furthers that agenda.”

He shrugged. “Maybe their goal changed.”

“I don’t like the idea of the Yiga Clan helping us. Not at all.” 

“Neither do I.”

She shook her head, clearing up the worries and doubts. “Let’s finish loading the sled. We must reevaluate our current security measures when we get back to the labyrinth.”

They loaded the supply sled in short order. Zelda thanked her guards for their bravery and loyalty, paying the stable a hefty sum to house them before their return to Hyrule Castle. With that settled, Link and Zelda went to the sled, piled high with food and supplies to offset the recent low morale from her crew. 

Zelda paced the length of the sled, searching for a spot to ride. She could never master shield-surfing or even capturing a sand seal to pull her, one of her many shortcomings (but one she was content to accept). She usually rode along on the sled as two guards steered, with Link escorting them on the back of his own loyal seal. As the two guards took their place on the sled, she realized this haul had left no space for her to ride along.

“We have a problem, Link.” He turned immediately to her, and she gestured to the sled. “There’s no spot for me to sit.”

Link regarded the sled carefully, and then looked back at Zelda. “I have a solution, Princess. But you won’t like it.”

He went to his seal, tamed through the use of copious treats. He grabbed the rope that served as a rein and leaped lithely upon the shield waiting on the ground. Then he inched backward on the shield, making the barest enough room for a second person. “Ride with me.”

Her legs wobbled as visions of sideswiping Lizalfos and being tossed in the air as they crested a dune danced in her head. “Are you sure? If shield-surfing is difficult, I imagine doing it with a passenger is doubly so.”

He deadpanned, “I’m the current seal-racing champion. We’ll be fine.”

“You’re _what?”_

He added sheepishly, “I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell Lieutenant Teake, though.”

She eyed the shield, toying with a lock of her long blonde hair. “Are you sure? It could still be dangerous if we lose control.” She was a careful, deliberate, think-it-out sort of person. Acting quickly in the heat of danger was not her strong suit.

“We won’t lose control.” He fixed her with that stoic look from so long ago, but now she saw a bead of flickering warmth within that gaze, like a fire in a log cabin. “You’re safe with me, Princess. You always will be.”

Her legs wobbled again, but for an entirely different reason. “All right. I suppose it’s best not to dawdle, then.”

She stepped carefully onto the shield. Link’s corded arms wrapped around her, caging her in as he gripped the rope with both hands. “Hold onto the rope,” he murmured, his chest rumbling against her back. “It’ll help you keep your balance.”

She obliged as a chill ran down her spine. Long ago, she had loathed Link for his successes as she left nothing but failure in her wake, but so much had changed since then that now, in this compromising position, Zelda couldn’t help but imagine a position even _more_ compromising for her and her knight.

And then Link yelled “Hyaah!” straight into her ear and snapped the rope, and all three sand seals took off across the dunes.

They rode southward, skirting around the Palu Wasteland whose narrow pass was impossible to navigate with a wide, bulky sled. Despite the care they needed to afford their travel, Link seemed to insist on making his route as dangerous as possible. When they whistled through the ribcage of a long-dead beast, Zelda shouted over the noise and the wind, “Aren’t you cutting it a little close?”

“No closer than usual,” he called back. “But I’ll be more careful with my precious cargo.”

Zelda was very grateful he couldn’t see her reddening face.

She managed to dispel her blush by the time they arrived at the solid rock of the Gerudo Mesa, rising a clean six feet out of the ground. Zelda managed to design and build an elevator wide enough to pull the sled on and powerful enough to lift it. It resembled the weight-powered systems at the scaffolding left behind by the excavation that first discovered Vah Naboris, but this one used a crank-operated pulley system that didn’t require massive crates or iron boulders. 

Their party hopped off their sand seals and dragged the sled into the lift, which would pull them up onto the path on solid rock that led to the labyrinth. From there they pulled the sled along the path until they returned to their camp hidden behind the radiant orange mesa walls.

The South Lomei Labyrinth was a marvel of architecture, artwork, and engineering. While the route to the Shrine nestled at its center was a straight shot, it was only because Link had followed the winding passages and dodged the creeping Malice that they could walk the simple path to it. Tents bordered the outside of the labyrinth, places to sleep, eat, and collect and study artifacts. When they left earlier that morning, there were a few historians sitting in the work tent while the others on the expedition were hidden within and scattered throughout the labyrinth. Guards patrolled from both on the ground and at the top of the cliffs, keeping an eye out for any hint of danger. Upon Link and Zelda’s return, the tents were totally abandoned, and all was quiet save for running footsteps.

“Your Highness! Captain!” A frantic guard called Gomes ran up to them and bowed deeply. “Welcome back!”

Link was all business. “Where is everyone, Gomes?”

“They went into the labyrinth. They said they made a breakthrough!”


	2. Breaking Through

All at once, a million questions sprang to Zelda’s mind and leaped off her tongue. “Do you know what they found? Where is it? How long will it take to fully excavate it? Ought it be fully excavated, or just documented as well as we can? Oh, I wish we still had the Sheikah Slate!”

“Um.” Gomes stared helplessly at her. “I don’t know what they found. Falen came running out of the labyrinth, said something to the others about the northwest quadrant, and then they all went running back in.”

“Gomes, take this sled and bring it to the mess tent. We have no time to lose!”

Zelda let go of the sled’s reins and dashed toward her private tent, where she snatched her research journal from her cot. Her mind was whirring with possibilities. The rumors she found in the royal library’s history books, translations pulled from ancient Zonai texts, sounded promising, but pessimistic: _A great relic slumbers within Lomei that has the power to make memory material. It must be wielded when no other choice presents itself._ Perhaps they’d found some sort of pictographic rendering of what this artifact could be, or even better, a hint towards its location!

Nose buried in her journal, she marched outside the tent and toward Link, who was assisting Gomes with the sled. What progress had they left off with last night in the northwest quadrant? Gracen and Nia were investigating the artwork there, and Quael assisted them by translating the script. “Come on, Link!” she called, turning sharply toward the labyrinth. “Let’s go!”

Without waiting for him to catch up, she strode into the Labyrinth and took the straight path heading toward the wooden bridge strung over the sunken Shrine. “Princess!” Link called, running up to her side. She didn’t break stride, but she knew he could easily keep up with her. “You could give a guy some warning,” he said with a little laugh. That was a change from before the Calamity to now, Zelda noticed: he laughed. His laugh was quiet and gentle, and this particular one had just a hint of teasing. “That sled’s a two-person affair when it’s loaded.”

“Well, it’s been taken care of now, at any rate.” The promise of a breakthrough added a skip in her step. “But we’ve hit the proverbial pay dirt. We found something that could lead to incredible knowledge and power!”

The bridge over the Shrine was a rickety little thing built for convenience, and usually Zelda was the first to caution people to be careful when crossing it. Now she hardly spared an eye from her journal as she crossed it, as unstoppable as a thundercloud.

“The texts refer to whatever it is that’s buried under the labyrinth as a source of great power. Imagine how much it could teach us about the ancient Sheikah, and by extension the whole ancient world! There’s so much to learn!”

The corner of Link’s mouth turned up. Another change from then to now: she saw those little looks a lot more. Whether she never noticed them before or they were a new addition, she couldn’t say. She quite liked them, even if it were inappropriate for her to enjoy them so. 

They took two lefts until they found the square archway that opened into the northwest quadrant. They followed the growing sound of excited chatter deeper into the maze until they arrived at a dead end absolutely packed with people. Hylian and Sheikah scholars climbed over each other to examine a certain spot on the floor while their much taller Gerudo fellows courteously observed from the back. 

Zelda went toward Rotana, a Gerudo scholar whose research on her region’s folklore had illuminated her own understanding of ancient Hylian texts. “What’s going on?”

Rotana’s eyeglasses lent her a sharp aura, which she used to full effect as she declared, “Make way for Her Highness!”

A gasp swept over the crowd, and then they parted to reveal what sat against the wall in this dead end. It was an ancient lever, made of a black material similar to the Sheikah Slate and bearing the characteristic circles and swirls of ancient technology. Zelda gasped softly as she walked toward it. She had only dared hope for the successful translation of a difficult phrase, or even the discovery of particularly enlightening artwork. She hadn’t dared to hope for _this!_ “Who made this discovery?”

“I did, Your Highness.” A young Sheikah woman appeared from the crowd and curtsied deeply. Nia was her name and architecture was her specialty, if Zelda remembered correctly. “I discovered it an hour ago, but none of us touched it.”

Zelda gestured for her to rise. “How did you discover it?”

She started to flush. “I was cataloguing the reliefs on the north wall when I noticed one protruded slightly. Gracen and I knocked it on accident, and suddenly we heard a rumbling sound. We followed it here and watched the lever pop out of the ground!”

“Thank you.” Zelda barely got the words out of her mouth before she went to the lever and fell to her knees, examining the slight ridge in the dirt that denoted the edges of a sunken base panel. An engineering marvel, and it still functioned, at least in part, after all these years! She intensely studied the lever, and her fingers itched to grasp the handle. Curiosity burned within her; where did it lead? What would happen when they pulled it?

She climbed to her feet. “All right. Art researchers, go with Nia to analyze and document the panels she pressed. Engineers and architects, stay here with me as we do the same to this lever. Historians, double check your texts that cover the mechanics of the labyrinths. This must be thoroughly documented and cross-referenced with our data. Anything that slightly alludes to such a lever must be noted!” She clapped her hands. “Hop to it, everyone!”

The gaggle scattered with urgent aplomb. Zelda whipped out her journal and scribbled down her observations: _Approx. 3 ft long. Appears to be made of similar material to Sheikah Slate. Bears iconography of ancient Sheikah work (circles, swirls). Was lifted by pressing certain panels w/i NW quadrant of SLL. Sits on base panel 2 ft long, 1 ft wide._

They spent the rest of the day recording every ounce of data they gathered. The panel artwork was sketched, the texts were scoured, and the means as to the appearance of this lever was the subject of great discussion among the engineers, Zelda among them. In fact, they were still debating as they left the labyrinth at the end of the day, and only had a brief reprieve to wash up for dinner before they were talking over their meat and shroom stew in the mess tent. Link, ever watchful, sat at the far end of the table.

“An ancient mechanism like this to still be intact?” exclaimed the Sheikah Marvo, his short eyebrows rising to his receding hairline. “It’s a mechanical marvel!”

“To have remained operational all this time, it’s almost certainly made of Sheikah materials,” said Zelda, gesturing with her spoon, “suggesting a high likelihood of being designed by the Sheikah as well.”

Mona, a Hylian historian who hadn’t yet touched her food, said, “This confirms a link between the Sheikah and the Labyrinths, and that in turn alludes to a link between the Labyrinths and the Zonai people!”

“Your Highness,” asked Rotana from further down the table. “May I ask you a question? I don’t want to make things difficult for you.”

“Of course, Rotana.”

“Well, are we going to pull the lever?”

Silence fell over the table. Zelda felt the intense stares of eavesdroppers around her, also rabidly curious about the lever’s fate. One of the most watchful gazes was Link’s. “Of course, we will,” she declared. “I wager we’ll have pulled it before tomorrow is out!”

“Hear, hear!” Dinner was an even livelier affair after that, with everyone theorizing about the lever’s origin, purpose, and effect once pulled. They talked so late into the evening that only the chill of the desert night could call an end to the conference, scattering them all into the warmth of their tents.

As Zelda scurried to her own, a familiar shadow fell into step beside her and draped a cloak over her shoulders. She looked up into Link’s face. “I took the liberty of fetching it earlier.”

“Thank you, Link. I hardly noticed you were gone.”

“I know.” He wore a little half-smile on his face. “You were all so absorbed.”

“Well, it’s all so thrilling, isn’t it? We’ve finally found something!”

They arrived at her tent. Usually, Link would bid her goodnight and leave her in the care of the guards, but tonight he lingered, lips pressed into a thin line. “Is something wrong, Link?”

He opened his mouth, paused, and then said, “I need to speak to you for a moment. Privately.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” she said as she opened the tent flap and gestured for him to follow her inside, her heart thumping inappropriately in her chest. She had imagined a certain version of these events, with him entering the tent, leveling an intense gaze at her, shedding his armor while walking closer to her bed…

But when he stepped in, he was all terse and tense. “Princess, please allow me to speak plainly to you.”

“You can always talk to me.” After everything they had been through, being two of the few survivors of the Calamity and the pair who brought it to an end, he was her most trusted friend and confidante. She lit the lantern that stood on her writing desk and sat. “What is it?”

He sighed. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I never thought we would find anything in the Labyrinths.”

Her jaw dropped in indignation. “Why on earth didn’t you say something until now?” If he thought theirs was a doomed venture, she would want to know!

He shrugged, averting his eyes and nervously scratching the back of his head. “Construction on Hyrule Castle was steady and slow. All the aid programs were operating smoothly. You were worn out, and Hyrule was repairing itself just fine, so I figured pulling together this expedition would keep you busy and help you unwind.”

“You thought this was a vacation?” she said, aghast. “There’s still so much I have left to do! There are ruins that need rebuilding, crops that need replanting, research to do, traditions to reestablish, cultures to protect, conflicts to smooth over! I oughtn’t be here--oh, poor Impa, I’m sorry I saddled you with such a mess!--but I believed strongly enough in the possibility of finding priceless relics that I decided yes, the Labyrinths were my priority!”

She rubbed her temples and shot her knight a look. Link looked appropriately ashamed, but she didn’t have much sympathy in her heart. Did he think this was playtime for her? Even if he doubted the validity of their search, her reasoning was now close to being proven correct. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what you thought earlier. We’ve made excellent progress and are poised to make even more.”

“That’s, uh, the thing.” He visibly braced himself, giving a little nod as to affirm _yes, this is the right thing to do._ “I think we should pack up and leave immediately.”

_“What?”_

Link actually flinched. “We’ve actually made a breakthrough, a thing you thought impossible--”

“I never said impossible!”

“--and you want to up and leave? I don’t understand it!”

He sighed again. “Let me explain. I didn’t think we would find anything here, Sheikah-related at least, because the Sheikah Monks were the ones who led me to everything I _did_ find. They brought me to their shrines and practically begged me to find the Travel Medallion. If there was something under the labyrinth, then I think they would have told me about it.”

“But there’s evidence now!” she replied. How could he overlook the lever they found today, slated to reveal more secrets? “Or a promise of some greater secrets hidden in this labyrinth. Who knows what else this place is hiding?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” His words rang with sincerity. “Everything the Monks did was to prepare me to face Calamity Ganon. Every relic, every ability, every phrase they uttered. I got it all. So, if there really is something under the labyrinth and the Monks didn’t tell me about it, maybe we shouldn’t disturb it.”

“Again, I wish you would have voiced these concerns to me earlier.” Admittedly, they wouldn’t have ultimately changed her mind, she rather thought, but Link doubting the adventure would surely have given her pause. “Either way, we won’t know what is under there, if there _is_ anything under there, unless we investigate.”

He shook his head. “I will always be grateful to the Sheikah for creating the tools that saved my life. But think of the power in what they gave us. They buried towers across Hyrule that tore it apart at the Slate’s command. They created the Divine Beasts that almost destroyed the towns they were supposed to guard. They wouldn’t lead us to something that could do real damage unless they had a reason, and we’re enjoying our first peacetime in a century. Are we willing to throw that away?”

“Whatever is in the labyrinth,” she argued, “has the potential to help protect our peace.”

“Then why wouldn’t the Sheikah give it to us?”

“It may not be of Sheikah origin,” she countered. “The possibilities of its origin and purpose are endless, and they will remain as such until we can get our hands on it. Who knows? It may even help bring back your memories.”

He stopped short. “What do you want with my memories?”

She felt that red flush creeping up her neck. “You’re my closest friend. I am looking out for your welfare, and I’m drawing on some more naturalistic methods to do so.”

He frowned, his expression pensive. “They’re my memories, Princess. They’re not your responsibility.”

“They are, if they affect your understanding of your responsibilities as my knight.”

“They don’t.” His jaw tensed, and then he continued, “I can handle my responsibilities with or without my memories.”

“If you say so.” She swallowed past the hard lump in her throat and nodded curtly, taking his cloak from her shoulders, folding it up, and handing it back to him. “Thank you for bringing these considerations to me. Now please, leave me to retire for the night.”

He took his cloak, turned to leave, then hesitated at the door. Then he turned back, drew right up to her and gazed at her with deadly seriousness, no trace of fealty or obedience on him. He had softened since his reawakening, but nothing had hit him so hard as the threat of the unknown. “I have a bad feeling that whatever this thing is, is dangerous. We don’t need a weapon of mass destruction now that we’re past the Calamity. Please, Princess, think about this: maybe some things should just stay buried.”

He never shed his guard, and yet his fear for what happened next shone through the cracks in his armor. Was he, this vessel of complete courage, scared enough to let his fear show?

“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t make any promises,” she warned. “But I will think about it.”

“Think hard,” said Link. “We have a lot of innocent people here. We can’t let them get hurt.”

He gazed at her a moment longer, now utterly unreadable to her. “Goodnight, Princess,” he said, disappearing to retire to his tent next door.

She did not sleep well that night. She lay in her cot and stared up at the tent’s canvas ceiling, mind whirring and heart fluttering. So much had happened today that could lead to the complete, perfect restoration of Hyrule. One day, things would be exactly as they were one hundred years ago, and she would be able to make things right from there. 

Yet, one thing that would remain exactly the same was her love for Link. Real, trusting, undying love. She didn’t act on it quick enough before the Calamity struck and now…

She laboriously rolled onto her side, taking care not to tumble off the cot. Through two thin canvas layers slept Link, the man who had held her heart for one hundred and one years. She loved Link still, but could he ever love her? She had never once known what he felt for her. He was unreadable in the past, but he’d begun to break out of his shell recently. And yet she had no further indication of his feelings for her, past or present. If he ever loved her, did he love her still? His memories were in shambles! He didn’t know fully who he was yet, and he had never let her in enough to help guide him. For all the reconstruction she had started across Hyrule, she couldn’t rebuild him. And to confess her feelings to him now was wrong. If he didn’t remember her fully, how could he truthfully answer?

She turned on her other side. She hoped that whatever slept in the South Lomei Labyrinth could help rebuild Hyrule, or at the very least help Link recall his past.


	3. Beckoning

“The lever appears to be attached to a mechanism that is built within the labyrinth itself. All cursory examinations point to the lever being made from ancient Sheikah materials and engineered according to ancient Sheikah principles, but more specialized laboratory tests will be required to reveal their extent and power.” Marvo bowed, his forehead shiny with sweat.

“Thank you, Marvo.” said Zelda. It was the next day, and they were holding an impromptu court in her tent to discuss the findings concerning the lever in the labyrinth. “All right, Nia. Has any of the artwork around the labyrinth shed light on this lever’s purpose?”

Nia stepped into the circle of researchers as Marvo scuttled away. The other scholars waited, no doubt restlessly, in the mess tent. Link stood guard in the door and watched the proceedings with an eagle eye. Said Nia, “We investigated the pictographs on the panels, as well as reviewed the findings from the rest of the art that’s been catalogued. The panels seemed to show a darkness pouring from an archway, which symbolizes great uncertainty in Zonai iconography.”

_An ill omen, or a doorway that may lead to a great boon?_ Zelda thought. “Thank you, Nia. Mona, when do we see similar pictographs from the Zonai?”

“During times of conflict, mainly,” she said. “Reappearances of this pictograph coincide with art dated during wars or rebellions, as well as difficult harvests or seasons. Showcasing uncertainty would make sense if this place was used as some sort of fortress or shelter during a war.”

“Or if it’s hiding an artifact of such great power that it ought only to be used in wartime.” There was no conclusive evidence, but the signs trended positively. Her own scientific curiosity itched in her palm, her fingers eager to close around that lever and pull so she could soothe the fiery thirst of needing to know what happened next. “Thank you, everyone. We have discussed all we can, but it is time for further testing. Please fetch the others and meet us in the northwestern quadrant to observe the effects of pulling the lever.”

A thrilled titter rippled through her audience. “Right away, Your Highness!” said Nia, going to the door.

Link moved to block the doorway, the lantern light gilding his hardened eyes. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders squared, the handle of the Master Sword looming over his shoulder. Nia quailed under his firm stare. “This is too dangerous,” he said. “Your Highness, you can’t do this.”

Zelda stood, hand clenching into fist. “Link.”

“Princess.” His severe gaze didn’t waver. “If you insist on pulling the lever, we have to protect everyone here while you do so. We cannot sacrifice the safety of our expedition for results.”

“What would you suggest, Link?” she replied, seething.

Without a shred of irony, he replied, “We clear the labyrinth of civilians and set up a patrol inside. I go in, pull the lever, and clear the perimeter again before anyone else comes in.”

She balked. “We’re here on a scholastic mission and you expect us to keep away from our experiment?”

“Yes.” He glanced over at the others. “I’m sorry. Until we know what’s in this labyrinth, this is the way it has to be.”

“If you are the only person in the labyrinth, how can we possibly observe what happens?” she asked. “If this is not a repeat experience, we lose valuable data!”

“Your safety and the safety of everyone here is at risk. As the captain of your guard and as your appointed knight, I must insist that safety comes before scholarship.”

She hated him for it, but in her heart of hearts she knew he was right. She was lucky Link was here to pull her back. She’d be no use to Hyrule dead.

“Very well,” she said, swallowing her childish instinct to rush headlong toward knowledge. “May our researchers observe from the entrance?”

He nodded. “I’ll accept that.”

“Good.” Heat rose to her cheeks, but this time it was humiliation that burned within her. She had gotten so caught up in the thrill of discovery that she overlooked her subjects’ safety. What kind of princess did such a thing? And she didn’t care for Link scolding her, either, but that was another issue.

It took some time for Link to marshal the guards to their new vantage points. Zelda spread the word to the researchers, who immediately positioned themselves as close to the entrance as Link would allow. There they stood still and murmured among themselves as the guards climbed the hill and took up watch at the peak of the mesa. They peered down at the scholars like vultures, who took absolutely no notice of them. They were all too busy building theories and comparing previous findings, unable to stop thinking about the lever. Zelda herself was enraptured by the possibilities before them. What could the lever possibly trigger?

She broke away from the gaggle when she saw Link stride up the straightaway in the labyrinth. They made a beeline for each other and met at the mouth of the maze.

“Preparations are complete.” He turned and gestured to the labyrinth and mesa as he continued, “I got a patrol set up in each quadrant, as well as half a dozen bird’s eyes. They’re on the lookout for whatever effect this lever has, too.”

“Thank you.” She could practically feel the researchers’ stares boring into her back, begging them to get on with it. “They’re all itching to know what happens, so go in and pull that lever.”

“Yes, ma’am. Stay clear of the walls.”

“We will. Hurry!”

He nodded and retreated into the labyrinth without another word. She, too, returned to the crowd of researchers, who immediately fell silent when Zelda gave them the good news. “Eyes and ears open. Journals out, pencils ready.”

They waited with bated breath, vigilant for the slightest change in the air. Zelda’s fingers ran across her belt, wishing desperately that she had the Sheikah Slate at her side. What better tool to document their great experiment?

A deep rumbling suddenly reverberated throughout the labyrinth and resounded off the walls of the mesa, almost like the deep roar of a Divine Beast. The guards readied their weapons; the researchers gave a collective gasp. Zelda hurried forward, right up to the edge of the entrance where she would have the perfect view of what was happening.

She watched the far wall of the labyrinth shiver, sending down a wave of dust. With the rough, gravelly sound of rocks sliding on rocks, the stone paneling slowly withdrew into the walls in six sections, revealing a doorway and the inky darkness beyond it. She instantly knew what she was looking at. It was the dark doorway rendered in the panels! The ancient rumors must be true. Something slumbered within the labyrinth, and this door would lead to it! This was the gateway to Hyrule’s success!

“Stay here, everyone!” she ordered, barely looking back at the researchers before she dashed into the labyrinth, dead set on examining this discovery. If it was dangerous, so be it! She had held back Ganon for a hundred years, so surely she could overpower whatever fiends lurked in that darkness! Who better than her to investigate first? 

She bolted across the bridge that hung over the Shrine, heading straight for this fascinating new doorway. She blew past Link as he came tearing around the corner, sword in hand. “Zelda!”

She skidded to a stop, but the running footsteps behind her continued. “You were supposed to stay outside!”

“As princess, I figured it was prudent to investigate that doorway!” 

“Alone?”

“To protect my subjects! Are you questioning the authority of the Hylian crown?”

“I’m trying to protect it!”

The grinding thud of rocks sliding on rocks resumed, so powerful that Zelda felt it through the soles of her boots. The stone panels in the archway reappeared from where they’d disappeared, sliding slowly back into position. They were going to block them out of what may be their only chance to find that relic!

Zelda didn’t think. She charged the doorway in a dead sprint and ignored Link calling her name again as he chased after her, but she could only pray that she, lacking his muscle mass, was light enough to outrun him.

She leaped over the stone panel rising from the ground, ducking her head to avoid its fellow descending from the ceiling. She tripped on her way in and landed sprawled in the dirt on the other side. She wasn’t injured, but it wouldn’t matter if she were, only that she was in. She was in! She had made it!

She rolled out of the way just in time to see Link leap headlong through the shrinking gap in the doorway, landing in a heap as the doors closed firmly behind them. Darkness shrouded the room, which was utterly silent save for their panting.

She heard scrabbling on the ground, and then pounding against the door. Link called out, “Hello? Hello, can you hear us? Gomes, report!”

Zelda sprang up and listened intently. The thick stone blocked out any sound; not even the loudest shout could penetrate the seal.

Link’s voice cut through the darkness again. “The patrol will try pulling the lever again,” he told her, voice firm. “In the meantime, let’s look for a lever or switch on this side.”

“Yes, let’s.” She put her hand out to the wall and followed it away from the door. She traced the outline of this cave, proceeding slowly until her boot knocked against something that clattered dully on the ground. She reached down and grasped at the object. It felt like a familiar shape from their expedition’s supplies, so she ran her fingers across the end. One end crumbled and smelled like ash. It was a torch!

Torch in hand, she stood and continued walking until her feet found a ramp and began to descend. This was no little chamber or hole in the wall, she sensed. This was the entrance to something much more complex.

“It appears to be some sort of tunnel,” she said, partly to inform Link and partly to test how far her echo traveled. It bounced a great deal until it abruptly faded away. “It’s leading deeper underground. Hopefully we can find a light source to help us investigate further. The architects of the labyrinth seemed to account for everything, so surely a lantern awaits ahead.” She waved the torch to draw attention to it, even though the oppressive darkness ensured it remained invisible. “I found a torch, too.” 

“And I found some flint.” She could hear the relief in his voice, even from this far off. “Let’s go back to the door.

Zelda fumbled her way back to the stone door, sweeping the torch in front of her as a guide. She stopped short when the torch hit up against something, and Link let out a quiet “oof.”

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine. Give that to me.”

“Where are you?” She stuck out her empty hand and searched until her palm met something soft, warm, and breathing. 

“There you are.” One of his hands traced up her arm while the other found the torch and pulled it from her grasp. At the sound of metal striking rock, flames leaped to life nearby. The firelight revealed his deeply troubled expression.

Link swung the torch toward the interior of the chamber, which consisted of a gentle slope leading into blackness. Sheikah reliefs were carved into the walls, similar to the ones within the labyrinth. Zelda could pick out a few familiar images: a gemstone, swordsmen, and frightening monsters, among others.

“Let’s wait,” said Link. “They ought to try the lever again.”

“All right. Just don’t move the light too much, please.” She sat down and started sketching out the pictographs in her journal, which she’d clung to in the midst of the chaos (only the worst crisis would tear a researcher from her journal!). Meanwhile, Link posted up at the door, keeping careful watch of the tunnel ahead. But there was nothing to watch for. The black remained indecipherable, neutral, and ever beckoning to her scholarly curiosities.

After several minutes of silence broken only by the scratch of her pencil on paper, Link said, “They would have tried the lever over and over by now. We’re not getting out the way we came.”

Her face lit up in a most indecent fashion. “So, that means our only option is to go forward!”

“Yes, it is.” He climbed to his feet in a heavy sort of way and offered his hand. “May I?”

She took his hand, stood, and then made to grab the torch. He held it out of her reach and said, “Sorry, Princess.”

“What if something happens, and you need to defend us?” she countered. “You’ll go for your sword, but your hands will be full.”

He frowned and handed it over to her. “A torch makes a good weapon in a pinch. Remember that.”

“I will. Thank you, Link.” Then, with an inappropriate abundance of glee, Zelda proceeded down the dark tunnel and headed underground with her faithful knight in tow.


	4. The Puzzle Chambers

Master Nola was leading the Yiga Clan out of a crisis of faith.

Master Nola paced around the edge of the combat arena, avoiding the massive, deep hole in its center. It was too early in the morning for her warriors to awaken and begin training, and she needed the quiet to think. Once, Master Kohga used the sheer descent set in this arena to instruct them to watch their environment and, on occasion, make an example of dissidents.

Master Kohga had named her his successor. He saw past her youth and recognized her ambition, skill, cleverness, adaptability. He admitted the Yiga Clan had been lacking in adaptability lately, which Nola was naturally gifted at. And so she was named Master after his death a year ago, right when the Calamity ended and launched the clan into its worst crisis in a hundred years.

The hero of Hyrule had killed Kohga without much fuss and gone on to annihilate Ganon not long after, saddling Nola with a directionless and unmotivated Yiga Clan. Even Nola, who believed in the power of Ganon and the way it could serve justice to the dreadful royal family, had trouble figuring out how they could hope to be successful. How could she possibly live up to everything Master Kohga saw in her in circumstances like these? 

She sat at the edge of the pit, folding her long legs under her and running a hand through her black hair. Well, the goal was the same as ever, she supposed. Take their rightful vengeance on the royal family for stealing Sheikah technology. They experienced a huge setback right when victory was in their hands, but that didn’t mean their mission was over. So, all they had to do was train and wait for the next opportunity, the next foothold in their climb to reinstating Sheikah glory. She doubted they would wait long.

Long were there rumors of something sleeping under the South Lomei Labyrinth. Master Nola had to admit that if anyone could decode its secrets and plumb its depths, it was Princess Zelda and her task force of scientists and scholars. With them doing all the hard work, all the clan had to do was watch, wait, and see what they would turn up.

And then they would have to be ready to strike and steal that treasure. So it was time to step up.

She turned and marched into the hideout to wake her soldiers. They had to start training seriously, and that meant early rises no matter who complained. Nola would train the Yiga Clan into a force to be reckoned with, and not a joke for the hero to cut down.

Zelda and Link soldiered on through the underground chamber, their eyes now well-adjusted to the darkness. They had been walking near thirty minutes now in this passage with little to show for their progress except for the artistic reliefs carved on the wall that gradually changed as they continued. Zelda strained to examine the reliefs, but many were damaged and indecipherable.

She noticed an intact relief on the wall and stopped. “Look at this, Link. It looks like the same art technique as in the labyrinth, but this is brand new iconography. It seems to show a pair of levers, and a power source that looks like a gem. Actually, now that I think of it, that gem resembles the gem icons I’ve seen in Sheikah art. With the connections between the Sheikah and Zonai--”

“Careful.” His hand, nimble and strong, landed on her shoulder. “We can’t get sidetracked. We’re looking for a way out.”

“Fine.” She turned away from the relief a little sulkily and kept walking. “Still, scientific curiosity goes a long way, even in situations of great peril. The Sheikah Slate became quite the useful tool to you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” His voice was flat. “It would really come in handy now, too.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “Terrible timing to hand it over to Purah, but it is what it is.”

He glanced over at her with a deep, irritated frown. “You don’t seem very worried about being trapped.”

She wasn’t. If this place was designed by the Sheikah, she knew the ancients would lead them true. “The ancient Sheikah were an intelligent civilization. They designed their Shrines so you would always have a way out. I’m confident they did the same here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“If this cave, chamber, whatever this structure is, is protecting a great power hidden within, then logically it follows that they would test any hopeful user’s worthiness, just as they tested you before they bestowed the Sheikah Orbs. So, why wouldn’t they do the same thing now?”

His frown deepened. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was scowling. “How can you be so sure this is a test?” 

Suddenly, the torchlight spilled onto a curious structure up ahead. A stone gate stood resolute before them, spanning the chamber from wall to wall. A gleaming diamond fixture was embedded in the rock above. Zelda quickly lit the two torches standing at either side of the gate. The chamber was aglow.

Zelda stuck the torch through the bars of the gate and peered beyond. In the little firelight that passed through the gates, she could see the gently sloping path continue, but walls were barren of reliefs. “It appears this tunnel descends further,” she said. “A bit like a tomb, or the catacombs beneath Hyrule Castle.”

She turned back to him with a grin. “Looks like they’re testing our worthiness before we continue.”

He wasn’t laughing. “Then how do we get through?”

“You’re asking me?”

“You’re the one who’s been studying this place, Your Highness.” He waved to the whole room. “Does any of this look familiar?”

She backed up, taking in the whole spectacle. “I recall reading about the Sheikah pictograph of a gemstone. It’s theorized to be a sort of power source.”

“Is that so.” Link looked up at the diamond, brow furrowed in thought. “Stand back.”

She obeyed, watching him keenly as he drew the Master Sword, reared it back, and flung it through the air, whirling upward end-over-end until it hit the diamond on the wall. The diamond turned a bright shade of yellow and the gate dropped out of sight before them!

Zelda gasped. “What an incredible feat of engineering!”

“Quick, Zelda!” Link swept up his sword, grasped her hand, and ran toward the gate. Moments after they crossed the threshold, the gate snapped shut behind them, sealing them in the ever-beckoning tunnel. 

“Apologies.” He let go of her hand. “Getting stuck back there would’ve been suicide, and after the lever outside stopped working, I didn’t want to take the chance that this was a one-and-done.”

Zelda stopped to catch her breath. “All in the name of science, I suppose.”

They turned around and looked at the other side of the wall the gate had slid in and out of. It was plain, nondescript, unremarkable. That was a problem.

“I don’t see any diamonds back here,” said Link.

“Neither do I. There’s nothing here that would open the gate again. We’re trapped even further down here.”

“At least we can keep moving.” He sheathed the sword. “So, let’s.”

They started walking again, with Zelda lifting the torch as high as it would go. “That means we’ll likely have other tests ahead of us, and those are almost certain to ramp up in difficulty. Perhaps this is some sort of primitive Sheikah Shrine--I say primitive because that first test was so laughably easy--and I get to experience it first-hand! Oh, it’s all so wonderful, isn’t it? The research we can do down here as observers _and_ participants will be unparalleled!”

“Princess,” said Link sharply, interrupting her excitement, “do you understand the danger we’re in?”

Zelda faltered. “Yes, I know this isn’t ideal.”

“We’re a long way from ideal.” He gestured back to the gate. “That’s two doors we can’t get through now. The only hope we have is ahead, but even that’s just a hope. We don’t even know for sure that we’ll ever get out of here.”

“Sure, we do, Link. The Sheikah stick to their patterns, and they always designed a way out of the Shrines as well as the Divine Beasts. They have incredible attention to detail.”

“But that was the doing of the Sheikah Monks, and I doubt there’s a Monk waiting for us at the end. Not to mention,” he added with a scowl, “if we had the Sheikah Slate, we’d be out of here easy.”

Zelda bristled. “Well, unless these tunnels lead to Hateno, we won’t have the Slate. But we won’t need it, because I’m certain there’s a way out.”

“Oh, yeah? How are you so certain?”

“How could they have built these tunnels if they didn’t leave themselves an exit route? There were innumerable Sheikah, but only one Slate we’ve recovered so far, so teleportation was hardly a common method of transportation. They must have had another way out when they built those gates.”

“Hmm.” Apparently mollified, Link’s scowl vanished, and he retreated behind his stoic armor. “Still, we should be careful.”

As they descended further, the path started to wind and double back on itself. The reliefs on the wall grew more sparing, less descriptive. Zelda had the feeling that the chamber was trying to make them feel lonely, and it was beginning to work.

Soon they found a flatter section of the path with a lantern near each wall. Zelda lit one of the lanterns, and the flame leaped magically to another further along the wall, and another and another until the whole right side was alight. Zelda lit the left lantern and the same thing happened. All the light revealed another gate up ahead, and right in front of that gate was a lever very similar to the one in the labyrinth. Between them and that lever was a stretch of cracked tiles laid out in a ten-by-ten grid.

Zelda moved forward, but Link threw his arm out. “Wait.” He walked up to the edge of the tiles, and carefully placed one foot on the nearest one.

The tile crumbled beneath his boot into a chasm so deep that the bottom was completely invisible.

Link hastily jerked his foot back and backed away from the hole. “Excellent intuition, Link!” she said.

“Not intuition, experience. I’ve fallen from many an unstable crag.” He patted his side as though to reach for his old paraglider, but all that met him was his sword. “Where’s Revali’s magic gale when you need it?”

Zelda folded her arms. Link once possessed the magical gifts of the Champions appointed to fight Ganon, but they vanished soon after the Calamity’s close, likely due to their spirits moving on. Even if they didn’t have the dear Champions’ gifts, they would find a way to move forward. She was sure of it. “They wouldn’t put this obstacle here without a way to traverse it. There’s got to be a solution.”

He held his hand out for the torch. She passed it to him without comment. Link knelt and lowered it into the gap he just created. She crouched beside him, where the light revealed a handful of rocky pillars scattered across the chasm, supporting some of the tiles from below. She tried to commit their positioning to memory, but it was difficult with the low visibility and with her long blonde hair obscuring her line of sight. “Can you see them?” she asked, combing her locks back only for them to fall right back in her face. “I can’t.”

Link shook his head. “All right, Princess. Stay here while I find the true path so you’re safe.”

“That won’t be necessary.” She crawled to the edge of the next intact tile and pressed her hand into it. It shattered at her feather-light touch and crumbled away, and so did the one next to it and the one next to that one. By now she had crawled to the opposite side of the chamber, where only one tile was left. Zelda pressed her hand to it. It held steady, so she leaned her full weight on it. It didn’t break.

“Here’s our first step,” she called over her shoulder. She heard footsteps behind her as she crawled onto the platform. Torchlight fell over her once again and illuminated her way. “We just have to go about it scientifically. Keep trying until you find the one that works. Carefully, of course.”

“Brilliant,” said Link’s voice above and behind her. He sounded impressed.

Feeling a little more secure in her ability, Zelda proceeded, remaining on all fours as she cleared out the false tiles to reveal the true path. One by one and slowly but surely, she eliminated the false ones and brought her and Link to the other side. She got to her feet and rushed to the lever, looking pointedly at Link.

“You got to pull the last one,” she said. “It’s my turn, and I’d rather not order you as the crown princess to let me do it.”

“I know an order when I hear one.” The corner of his mouth turned upward, seemingly unwillingly. “The honor is yours, Princess.”

“Link, you really are the best of men.”

She pulled the lever, beaming. The gate lowered and granted them passage.

“We are making excellent progress! Come, let’s see what other tests await us.” She took the torch back from him and walked through the gate. Without the stimuli of Sheikah tests to distract her, she was occupied by his apparent irritation at her, now weighing heavily on her mind. He was clearly resentful of being pulled in with her, and now that her scholarly curiosity didn’t fill her mind, she understood why. Just because he had overcome every trial and danger set before him didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to throw himself back in.

“I’m sorry for being flippant earlier,” she said. “I understand we’re in danger, and I’m the one that brought us here. But I believe in the ancient Sheikah, and I know that there must be a way out. Have faith in them like I do, Link. They haven’t yet led us wrong.”

He glanced over at her. She watched the crease in his brow melt away. “My faith rests with you, Your Highness,” he said, his voice a great deal softer than she’d heard lately. “If you believe this strongly in the existence of an exit route, then I will, too.”

Warmth filled her chest. She would give anything for him to look at her like that more, so open, honest, and brimming with conviction. “Don’t worry, Link. Soon enough we’ll be out with the relic in tow!” A skip appeared in her step. “You know, I never thought I’d be treated to my own Shrine. I know you did over one hundred so I’m sure the thrill’s worn off, but I confess I’m excited to be able to tackle a fresh one.”

Link hummed in amusement. “If I’d known you would be so happy to try a Shrine on your own, I would have left a few untouched.”

“Absolutely not. Those Sheikah Shrines are for the hero and the hero alone. Even I wouldn’t jeopardize your training and Hyrule’s future for a chance to explore one.” Link had taken her into a few Shrines for research, but he had solved those already which meant she was analyzing a chain of causes and effects after all the effects had happened. It was rather a thrilling opportunity to explore these trials, a sort of primitive Shrine on their own, first-hand. “Besides, these trials seem rather elementary. If we must be trapped down here, I am optimistic that if we are required to overcome them, we will be out of here in no time.”

Link was looking at her in that curious way, as if he were trying to recall something from the past. “Forgive me, Princess, but I don’t remember a lot of…” He trailed off, uncertain for a number of reasons, Zelda sensed.

“Please, Link, I urge to you speak freely and comfortably.” It was just the two of them. Link knew her better than anyone else in Hyrule, even dear Impa. “I can take it.”

“All right.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t remember you as very optimistic in the past.”

“Oh.” She tried to shrug, but the motion didn’t come quite naturally. “We had the threat of the Calamity looming over us. There weren’t many reasons to be optimistic in general, but especially since I was having trouble harnessing my sealing power.”

Her father’s demands to trigger her power and save them all had put her under immense pressure, and it was difficult to see through the shroud her destiny cast over her and be positive about anything. “I suppose I’m just not a glass-half-full type person.”

“Well, you are.” Link nodded back the way they came. “You threw yourself at those trials like they were nothing, and you’re totally unbothered by the idea of possibly being trapped in here.”

“I have confidence in my own ability and the ancient Sheikah designs,” she replied with another shrug. “That’s not the same as hopefulness.”

“It’s not, but you’re still a pretty hopeful person. I mean, you had to be to convince archaeologists to work in such a harsh environment without real, concrete evidence that they would find something. Not that that’s a bad thing!” he said quickly. “I just mean that your hope in the positive is strong.”

“But you just said you remembered me being the opposite.”

“You changed.” He said it so matter-of-factly, so simply. He said it like those words didn’t have immense power over her.

Her voice was small. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. How could anyone not change after the Calamity?” He cracked a smile. “I’ve sure changed a lot, huh?”

A chill seeped into Zelda’s bones that had nothing to do with their descent underground. “Yes, I suppose you have.”


	5. The Iron Knight

Zelda and Link walked and walked and walked down the downward-sloping path. They hadn’t discovered any more puzzle chambers yet, having passed through the first two relatively quickly. She missed them for both for the scholastic thrill of studying ancient obstacles and as a marker of their progress. This winding, empty path seemed to go on forever. 

In the meantime, she settled for reviewing her notes. She had handed the torch over to Link and cracked open her research journal, studying her quick sketches of the pictographs in the tunnel’s entrance chamber. She had been sure to capture them in careful detail despite Link’s apparent rush to leave. The reliefs had portrayed several types of swordsmen marching into battle, some bulky and some lean. Their swords were equally hefty and devastating-looking.

“These pictographs are rather interesting,” she murmured, tucking her long hair behind her ear. “To have both a power source and a military here rather suggests that the military either benefitted from the power source or were tasked to protect it.”

Link drew closer to her to look at her notes. “And what about those things?” He pointed at the monsters, thin, lithe humanoids with frightful faces.

“I don’t know. And I don’t recognize them from any other Sheikah pictographs, either. Not off the top of my head, anyway, but the art historians may have a better answer.” Still, the complete unfamiliarity of these creatures got the gears in her brain whirring. Was this the only place in Hyrule those pictographs were found?

The ground leveled out. Up ahead, a lantern stood in the center of the room. 

“Interesting,” Zelda murmured as they walked toward it. “Light it, Link.”

He did as he was bid, lowering the torch into the pit of the lantern. The flames flickered to life and washed over a massive suit of armor looming behind it.

“Whoa!” They leaped backward, startled by the sudden appearance. Link threw one arm out between her and the armor while his other curled over his shoulder for the Master Sword. The armor remained inert, but no less unsettling. “What is it?” Zelda wondered aloud. “And what is it doing here?”

The suit of armor looked close to something that resembled what the knights of Hyrule once wore; this design was archaic yet still recognizably Hylian. This knight was huge and hulking, intricate designs like the Hylian royal crest and the emblem and alphabetic characters of the Gerudo etched into the iron plates. The shining breastplate shone with a strange luster, untouched by dust and time. The greaves and bracers were similarly shiny, and the helmet was shaped like a cylinder, so solid that Zelda couldn’t find the place where the helmet’s wearer was meant to look out. Large enough to be wielded by a Gerudo, a double-bladed axe sat beside the suit, its edge embedded in the rock. “These designs resemble Gerudo letters, suggesting that this armor is of Gerudo make. But once again, what’s Gerudo-made Hylian armor doing in a Sheikah labyrinth? It’s so odd.”

“We have a problem, Princess.” He pointed behind them, where a gate had slammed shut and locked them inside this chamber. An identical gate barred the way up ahead. “The path is sealed, but we didn’t have a trial.”

_Uh oh._ Zelda whipped around and glimpsed the fingers of the knight’s obsidian gauntlet close around the handle of the axe.

“Look out!” Hands clasped, they ran from the knight as it hefted the battle axe above its head. It slashed down and struck the ground powerfully, kicking up a little cloud of dust. The knight once again lifted the axe, heaved it onto its shoulder, and slowly stalked toward them.

“Stay back!” Link pushed her away and drew the Master Sword, rushing into the fray and narrowly avoiding another axe swing as he charged. He struck the knight’s thigh, but his wide swing only glanced off the iron plate and hardly left a dent. The knight returned in kind with a wide swing of its own. Link barely managed to duck and immediately struck again, but again the armor paid him no mind; it thrust the battle axe straight at Link and mercilessly rammed him square in the chest. He crumpled to the ground and lay there gasping for breath as the knight marched toward him, lifted the axe, and brought it down. 

_“Link!”_ Zelda ran forward, threw herself onto the knight’s back, and beat the torch against its helmet, hoping for the slightest chance that it had a weakness to fire. But it remained utterly impervious. The torch made no impact on its armor, a minor irritation, a fly buzzing about the head. It was enough of an irritation to distract the knight for a moment, shoving her off him with a nudge of his elbow. Zelda fell to the ground just as Link jumped to his feet. The Iron Knight turned toward her, but Link struck hard and fast and brought its attention back to him. “Get back, Zelda!”

She complied, retreating to the gate as her mind worked at breakneck speed. There must be something she could do that would actually help!

She watched the fight closely with morbid intrigue, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her gut as she watched Link narrowly avoid blow after blow. Then, ducking under a high swing, he landed a pointed strike between the breastplate and back plate of the Iron Knight’s armor that sheared the back plate right off. When it turned, she saw a chain mail-clad body within the armor that moved like a human--and that could probably be hurt like a human!

“Link!” she called again. “Keep striking him with the point. It causes its armor to fall off!” 

Link stabbed again with the point of his sword, this time slipping it under the front of the breastplate. This also fell and exposed a chest covered in chain mail. He swung his sword again, but the flat of the battle axe hit him and shoved him away. No matter, because now he knew how to win! When he stood again, he was filled with that severe, cutting fire in his eyes, the same from when he saved her from the Yiga Clan!

He methodically peeled the armor off the knight, shedding the suit piece by piece and exposing the chain mail mass beneath it. More and more she could see a slimmer warrior appear, lean like Link and yet still strong enough to swing that axe like it was nothing.

Soon enough, only the chain mail remained. Pieces of armor were scattered across the floor. The combatants kicked pieces out of the way as they circled each other, swords at the ready. The air was tense.

The Iron Knight launched himself at Link, moving faster now that he was unencumbered by his outer shell. Link dodged, leaped, struck, dodged, leaped, struck. It was swift and devastating, fighting both with pointed strikes and wide swings. It was relentlessly focused forward, utterly unassailable on that front.

“The side!” Zelda yelled. “He’s leaving his sides and back unprotected!”

Link ducked another pointed strike and slipped to the side, rolling under the Iron Knight’s arm and stabbing him in the back.

It let out a groan and stumbled forward, but Link matched its step and maintained his grip on his sword, clasping his other hand around it and driving it deeper in. For a long moment, both knights were still as the grave, and then the Iron Knight dropped the battle axe and keeled over. He lay still on the dusty ground.

Zelda hurried forward as Link pulled the sword from his back, staring down with a sort of clinical dispassion at the Iron Knight. Torn and broken links littered the wound, shorn by the Master Sword. Within the cut-open torso, Zelda could see only a mass of chain mail, no creature wearing it. The Iron Knight was dead.

She turned to him and gave him a quick once-over. “Are you all right?” 

He carried himself delicately, injuries likely smarting before they turned into bruises. At the very least, it didn’t look like he had any broken bones.

“I’m fine,” he said, sheathing the sword and massaging his side. “I’ve never fought anything quite like him.”

“Quite an intriguing creature, isn’t it?” she murmured, bending to get a better look at the knight’s wound. “The armor is almost certainly enchanted, but this chain mail being was slain when wounded as though it were a living thing. This is an archaic magic the likes of which hardly exist in Hyrule anymore.”

She reached out to peel back the first layer of mail. “I’m sure Impa would--”

Link’s hand shot out and seized her wrist. Her head snapped to him, and he met her with a deadly serious gaze. “Don’t touch it. We don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to find out what else it can do. I’ll be honest. I can’t fight this thing again and win.”

A moment longer, and then he released her wrist. “My apologies, Princess.”

“No, no. You’re right.” She straightened up. “At any rate, we have to keep moving. I will examine this specimen later, when we can get a full platoon down here with us.”

He went to pick up the torch that was dropped during the fight. When he bent low to retrieve it, he grimaced fiercely and tried to stuff away a pained groan. He knelt and then froze completely, neither straightening fully up nor bending back down. Zelda hurried to his side.

“You must be worse off than we thought.” She grasped his arm, gently pulled him upright (eliciting another groan), and guided him to the wall. There he slid down to sit, moving awfully gingerly. “This chamber is well-lit. We’ll rest.”

“Not for long,” he promised, staring down the Iron Knight. “I don’t want to take my chances with that.”

“Not for long.” She pulled out her research journal. “In the meantime, I can record our observations from the fight.”

“Observation Number One,” said Link, “is that that thing packs a wallop.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Zelda sensed his sarcasm but wrote it down anyway. Any data was good data, after all. And as she scribbled out an account of the fight to piece together an analysis of the knight, she realized once again how fearsome of a foe it had been, and how Link didn’t waste a second to leap into the fray and protect both of them. In a rather small voice, she said, “Thank you for protecting me, Link. I don’t say it enough.”

He nodded again. “It’s my honor and privilege.”

“You’re very good at it. You’re protecting me even from myself. I mean, who knows what would have happened if you let me pore over that thing?”

He caught her eye again. “Well, Princess, if I may be so forward, you’re doing the same for me.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He leaned his head against the wall. A pensive expression came over his face. “There’s a lot I’ll never know about myself,” he began, “but I do know that ever since I came out of the Shrine of Resurrection, I can’t live without a purpose. I need something to keep me moving forward.”

His gaze slid to her. “First it was saving you and ending the Calamity, and now it’s assisting you and protecting you, even when you insist on throwing yourself into mysterious caves.”

Zelda’s heart fluttered. Surely, she was reading too far into things, but she was a scientist, and she, above all else, was not afraid of pursuing clarity. “Are you saying I’m your purpose, Link?”

“I guess I am.” The corner of his mouth pulled upward in a sad sort of smile. “In a matter of speaking.”

“In a matter of speaking.” A smile crept over her face. “I can admit to a certain fondness for you as well. Rebuilding Hyrule is a mighty task, and I am truly grateful I have your support.” They were two relics of the past who had fought to protect their kingdom’s future. Who better to restore Hyrule than them? 

He looked at her with complete devotion. “It is my duty, Princess, and my genuine pleasure.”

“In that case,” said Zelda, smile growing, “I see no reason for you to continue using my honorifics in private. I must insist you address me as ‘Princess’ or ‘Your Highness’ when around others, but when it is the two of us, please call me Zelda.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Are you sure, Princess?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything.” Except for one other thing. “It would make things fair, since I never address you as ‘Captain’ or ‘Champion.’”

He scoffed. “I couldn’t bear that.”

“Then I will not no longer bear you addressing me as anything but Zelda. At least in private.”

“Very well, Zelda.” Zelda wasn’t sure if the torchlight was playing tricks on her, but his cheeks turned the slightest bit red. “It may take some getting used to.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. After all,” she said with a smirk, “you used it a handful of times.”

“What?” He stopped short, his whole body going rigid with alarm. “My apologies. I had no idea.”

Zelda laughed. “It’s all right, Link. You only did so in urgent situations. For example, just minutes ago you used my name when warning me to stay out of the way of that…thing.”

“I didn’t even realize,” he said sheepishly. “And thank you for your assistance with that. Though you can’t try that stunt with the torch again.”

She chuckled. “Duly noted.”

“Speaking of notes,” said Link, clearing his throat, “do you have any idea what that thing was called? Did you ever run across a mention of it in your studies?”

“I’m afraid not. There was the first I had ever seen such a thing was its pictograph at the entrance of the tunnel. I was just thinking that once we get out, we ought to consult with our historians about the Iron Knight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The Iron Knight?”

“Oh. Yes, well, I suppose I just slipped into referring to it as such. I don’t know what else to call it, really, until we ask our scholars.”

“Works for me, Zelda.” He shot her a smirk. “I don’t hate it. It seems to come very naturally.”

“Good.” Zelda couldn’t help but think that she liked hearing her name in his voice, despite hearing it in such charged moments lately. She would enjoy the sound in the day-to-day, in the rare idle moment, in the most private of conversations.

Soon enough, she had finished jotting down her notes. Link was looking rejuvenated, ready to keep soldiering on down this seemingly endless tunnel.

She stood and offered her hand. “Are we ready?”

He met her eyes again with that unreadable stare, and then it melted into a fond smile. “We’re ready.”

He grasped her hand. She pulled him to his feet and relit their torch. Together they continued their march underground, ready for whatever may come their way next.


	6. Sacrifice

“Where do you think we are?”

“Underground, Link.”

He shot her a look of playful irritation, much more familiar in feeling than the looks he’d given her before. “I mean in relation to aboveground. We must be somewhere in the highlands of Gerudo by now.”

“You think so?” Her hand automatically went to her hip, where the Sheikah Slate used to hang, itching to check the map. “Our path’s been doubling back on itself quite a lot. We may be under the mountains but nowhere near the heart. Likely right along its edge, I think.”

He nodded. “I figured the same. Even if we’re looping around, we’re still headed mainly westward.”

“You can tell that, all the way down here?”

“I was a traveler, Zelda. I know when I’m headed west.” 

Up ahead stood an elaborately carved archway and a larger room that seemed to open beyond it. “Looks like there’s another trial waiting for us.”

He drew his sword. “Then stay behind me.”

Zelda obeyed, trailing close behind him with the torch. They entered a huge chamber, as big as the astral observatory in Hyrule Castle. Upon the ceiling was a complex installation of gears of all sizes that glowed with the characteristic orange of Sheikah tech. Their cogs were a great deal pointier than their more modern counterparts she’d seen in Sheikah Shrines, as though the gears themselves had once been used as weapons. The gears were still and silent.

Link secured the perimeter of the room and then carefully lit the two torches by the door. These torches, like two chambers ago, led to a chain of others, and soon enough the room was awash in firelight. It was barren and circular except for the apparatus on its ceiling, as well as another Sheikah-made lever directly below it and a stone tablet that stood beside the lever. On the other side of the room was another huge gate.

Together they drew close to the lever. Link bent to read the tablet while Zelda opened her research journal and started roughly sketching the gearworks above. 

“Looks like Sheikah writing,” he said.

“Can you read it?”

“No. Can you?”

“Maybe.”

Once she had a decent sketch of the lever in her journal, she knelt beside Link and examined the tablet. Zelda had studied Sheikah writing and had a passing fluency in it, but even with her limited understanding she could tell these characters were primitive. They were older than the oldest writing in Hyrule, and they were found in an underground stronghold that contained unheard-of magical armor, unique pictographs, and primitive trials. Just what _was _this place?__

__She sat down, set the torch beside her, and opened her journal again, flipping through to the page with the Sheikah alphabet she’d dutifully recorded in preparation for her trip (next to the Gerudo and ancient Hylian alphabets). “This looks like an earlier form of Sheikah writing, though there’s some resemblance to contemporary letters. It’ll take some time, but I can figure out a rough translation.”_ _

__He nodded. “I’ll keep watch.”_ _

__She set to work, carefully copying the runes on the stone tablet onto a fresh page. The ancient Sheikah alphabet she knew had methodically standardized characters, square-shaped and same-sized. And while some of the designs were similar, these runes were highly individual like those in the Hylian alphabet. Were the Sheikah and Hylian languages connected, somehow? Did one descend from the other, or did they develop concurrently?_ _

___First things first,_ she thought. _Find the letter that repeats the most often, because that’s likely the letter E. And then look for doubles.__ _

__She compared the old and new(er) alphabets, assigning characters based on their similarities in degrees of likeliness. She managed to identify a good chunk of the alphabet when Link’s far-off voice entered the stream of her thoughts._ _

__“I’ve been wondering something.”_ _

__Zelda didn’t turn away from her work. “What’s that?”_ _

__He paced the length of the gate across the room, regarding it thoughtfully. “The lanterns in most of the Sheikah Shrines didn’t need fire. They were powered on their own and already lit before I arrived. Sometimes I’d have to light torches, but only if the trial called for it. It sticks out to me that there aren’t any of those kinds of lanterns in here. Seems unusual.”_ _

__Zelda shrugged. “Not to me,” she replied. “This place is older than those Shrines. It could be that the ancient Sheikah didn’t have that technology yet when they built this place.”_ _

__“Maybe.” The look on his face was clear. He doubted that possibility. “It’s the same thing I was worried about when we first found the lever in the labyrinth. The lanterns, these tests, the pictures of warnings--”_ _

__“Pictographs, not pictures--”_ _

__“Pictographs,” he corrected himself. “Everything we’re seeing in this dungeon is adding up to the same gut feeling. I don’t think the Sheikah wanted us to come here.”_ _

__Her lips pursed. True, this dungeon (as he so aptly called it) wasn’t nearly as inviting as the Sheikah Shrines or the Divine Beasts. And Link’s gut feeling was often correct, even in the face of concrete evidence. “If they were so concerned with keeping people out, then why have the gates been locking behind us?”_ _

__He scratched his chin with a finger, pondering the gate. “I think it might be combat strategy.”_ _

___“Combat?”_ she replied, truly astounded. “I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”_ _

__“If there’s a place you want to defend, you minimize opportunities for people to invade it,” he explained. “You have as few entrances and exits as you can, for example, or you set up traps or defenders to keep people from moving forward.”_ _

__She frowned. “I still don’t understand.”_ _

__He hesitated. It was as though he worried voicing his theory would make it true. “There’s one entrance that we can’t exit out of. It makes sure if their traps don’t stop us, and we get our hands on whatever great power waits for us, we can’t bring it back out.”_ _

__She swallowed. “They’re sacrificing our lives to protect this power?”_ _

__He turned a severe gaze on her, jaw clenched and brow creased, his whole body bracing for impact. “We’re not a sacrifice to the people who built this place. We’re threats, and their objective is to eliminate us however possible.”_ _

__Lead filled her stomach. His evidence was fairly circumstantial, but it added up to a terrible picture. “I see,” she said, unable to look at him._ _

__She returned to focusing on the translation, but she couldn’t completely shake Link’s words. Was this all one big trap? Was the great power she so dearly sought for the good of Hyrule going to spell their doom? Her fingers trembled, resulting in messy notes and jittery thoughts._ _

__After some time, Zelda managed to rough out an approximate translation and called Link over. “I think I’ve got it.”_ _

__As Link came back and crouched beside her, she reread the full translation in the hope she had made a mistake. But she’d triple-checked her logic and tested other pairings of characters to see if some other phrase made a better fit, but none came close to legibility._ _

__“What’s it say?” he asked._ _

__She cleared her throat and read off her notes. “ _If you’ve come this far, pull the lever and bear your boon._ ” _ _

__

__

__Link sat back on his haunches. “That doesn’t sound good.”_ _

__“Agreed.” She looked around the barren chamber. “There’s no other way to move on, is there?”_ _

__“No. I checked.” He nodded to the lever. “If there’s any way forward, that’s it.”_ _

__Their way forward into what felt like a trap or a punishment. “No way back?”_ _

__“No.” He stood. “Let’s get going.”_ _

__“Wait!” She shot to her feet and grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”_ _

__He looked at her in puzzlement, like she’d just admitted she couldn’t read. “We don’t have a choice. We have to pull it.”_ _

__“But…!” That ominous warning on the tablet and those conclusions Link had drawn were so foreboding. It cast clear, tangible uncertainty on their future. Gone was her faith in the Sheikah, gone was her rock-solid belief that they would make it out all right. They were threats, and the Sheikah were very good at preparing against threats. “We can’t trust going forward. We don’t know what else is in store for us.”_ _

__His eyebrows lifted and he gestured back the way they came. “We can’t exactly retreat. We’ve got gates in our way, not to mention that Iron Knight might be waiting for round two.”_ _

__“Surely there must be a way to break those gates.” She went to the wall and started examining it closely, cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. “I bet I could find something!”_ _

__He marched back to her and fixed her with that severe look. He wasn’t even trying to hide his anger at her; he let it leap off his words, crackling through the air like lightning. “Why are you now scared of what happens next? These risks were always here. Did you just realize what was happening?”_ _

__“I…” The answer was yes. The hope for finding this great power to help her restore Hyrule had been strong enough to override common sense. She and Link were stuck down here, and it was all her fault. “I didn’t know.”_ _

__His jaw tightened. “Well, you know now. And we have to keep going.”_ _

__“No!” She clenched her fists. “There must be another way. There’s got to be another choice.”_ _

__“Our choices are move forward and hope up ahead is a way out,” he snapped, “or wait in here and starve to death.”_ _

__“But the way ahead may kill us!”_ _

__“And?” he retorted. “That has been the case this entire time. Just because we have evidence that there’s more in store doesn’t mean we stop moving. We soldier on and fight!”_ _

__“How do you do it?” she cried desperately. He was the patron of courage, the stoic, silent knight who attacked anything without fear. “How can you be so certain we can keep going?”_ _

__“Certainty is a soldier’s greatest enemy. I can’t be certain that we’ll be all right, or that the path we’re walking won’t lead us right to a brick wall. Being certain means we’re unprepared for something we don’t expect, which could very well kill us.” His face softened. “Look at what happened to you. You believed so much in what you could find down here that it blinded you to the possible dangers.”_ _

__His words, weighty and true, hit her like an avalanche. She was the person that whisked them into danger, that threw him at trial after trial without regard to his life. She had always thought she were the breakable one, and Link was immortal, invulnerable, constant. He could protect her, yes, but she was calling all the wrong shots and throwing them both into danger._ _

__She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t bear the weight of her sins now, when she already bore the weight of one hundred years of ruin. The Calamity was her fault, the deaths of the Champions and her father were her fault, and now the danger they were in was her fault. It was too much to bear!_ _

__“Well,” she said, her voice thick. “I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.”_ _

__She inched toward the lever, the length of her stride shrinking as she closed in, and wrapped her shaking hands around it. She knew she was feeling that same gut feeling Link had had early on; there wasn’t a lot of evidence, but she knew instinctively that no good could come of this._ _

__Back in the labyrinth, she had resented Link for keeping her away from that lever and forcing her to stay safe. For all his efforts, look where she landed them! If it were just her, she could find some way to justify her fear. But she’d dragged Link into this, wasting his second chance at life. A chance she had fought for one hundred years to guarantee._ _

__There were no guarantees up ahead._ _

__Her heart pounded. Her shoulders shook. Her dread hung heavy in her gut. And then a warm hand covered hers on the lever as its partner rested on the small of her back. She felt another wave of warmth, looked up, and found Link right beside her. The grimness had vanished from his face, replaced by remorse._ _

__“We have to keep moving,” he said, “but I’ll protect you from whatever waits for us down there. It’s my sworn duty and my greatest honor, and I will fight until my last breath.”_ _

___It’s you I’m worried about!_ She wanted to tell him and finally share with him her aching secret, but it would be too overwhelming for them both. So instead, she relinquished the lever and embraced Link, burying her face in his chest guard. “I’m sorry. Thank you for everything.”_ _

__He tensed up in her arms, his breath catching in his chest. She knew that, even if he once loved her a hundred years ago, the chances he did now were unlikely. Who could say if he could ever love her without regaining the rest of his memories?_ _

__And then his arms also wrapped around her, his hand stroking down her back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly.”_ _

__“Yes, you should have,” she murmured. “I needed it.”_ _

__“I’ll keep you safe. I got you.”_ _

___I got you._ She’d protected him for one hundred years. Why should she stop now?_ _

__She pulled away and turned back to the lever, grasping it with both hands. He replaced his hands on her back and the lever, and together they pulled it down._ _

__The gears above their heads started to turn, raining down whole clouds of dust. Zelda clapped her hand over her mouth and nose, grabbed a coughing Link, and ran out from under the gears as they gradually increased their speed until they ran as smoothly as the day they were created. Their glowing orange light flashed and then turned blue._ _

__Across the room, the gate sank into the rock and granted their way forward._ _

__Zelda picked up her research journal and shook dirt from its pages. Link retrieved the still-lit torch and passed it to her._ _

__“Let’s go,” he said. “And let’s be careful.”_ _

__She took a deep breath, and then another and another. A hand slipped into hers, warm and safe._ _

__“I got you,” Link repeated._ _

__She squeezed his hand. _I got you.__ _

__Together they soldiered deeper into the dungeon, leaving Zelda feeling awfully like a lamb going to slaughter._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof. Wasn't that a turn of events (that everyone but Zelda saw coming)? Thank you to everyone who's read, liked, and commented so far--I love hearing from you!


	7. The Undead

The air thickened as Zelda and Link proceeded further into the dungeon. Maybe it was because she now knew they were going deeper and deeper under the mountains. Zelda felt the weight of the whole Gerudo mesa on her shoulders, threatening to crush her with one wrong move.

Link hadn’t pulled his hand from hers. She sensed his caution moving forward, but he soldiered on, fearless in the face of the unknown. It was like the confrontation in the last chamber never happened, like he never resented her choice in locking them down here, like he never lashed out at her. He was as steadfast and protective as ever. Together they walked with only torchlight as their guide, and no conversation to beat back the loneliness pervading her bones. It was only Link’s presence that kept her moving forward.

Before long, another gate materialized out of nowhere and snapped shut behind them, just like in the chamber with the Iron Knight. Another striking similarity was that in here, too, stood a lantern in the center of the room. Link let go of her and gestured for her to stay put. “Probably another combat trial.”

She nodded, and he approached the lantern stealthily, his footfalls silent and deliberate. He dipped the torch into the lantern pit and lit it, revealing two misshapen, unmoving heaps lying on the ground on either side of the lantern. They each had a heavy sword beside them, not as large as the Iron Knight’s but certainly within the same family if she judged by its heft. While the Iron Knight had remained still, Zelda sensed a sort of unnaturalness in these things’ stillness. Some instinct, some primal sensor embedded in her brain was flashing: _they should be moving._

“Wait!” she said, but it was too late. Link had already prodded one of the heaps with his toe, bending close to inspect it with the torch. Slowly the heap moved, lifting limbs so lacking in muscle that the skin appeared stretched taut over the bone. It rose up on two spindly legs and lifted its crooked head, revealing eyes that were hollow gaps in its face. It gave a sick sort of grin; its mouth had only half of its teeth. It looked like it might have once been human but had something dreadful happen to it. Its fingers were long and thin, and they reached for Link like a plant turning toward sunlight. 

Link backed away and drew his sword. He and Zelda both watched the creature move laboriously as though it were the size of a Hinox. But even Hinoxes were quick when it suited them; this thing moved at a snail’s pace, even to pick up its sword! When it drew up to its full height, a daunting nine feet tall, they both recognized the ill intent in its deathly face and the grip of its blade.

Link wasted no time.

He launched himself at it and sliced down at its spindly legs to destabilize it, making considerable contact. The creature flinched slowly, like a performance instead of a reaction, and started loping towards Link. It heaved its sword over its head and struck at Link, who easily dodged and stabbed at the creature’s side. It winced and swiveled back to him, though he’d already hopped far out of its range. It opened its mouth so wide that Zelda thought it must have unhinged its jaw.

A grating, high-pitched, horrible scream burst out of it, bouncing off the walls and piercing Zelda’s mind. Fear rooted her to her spot as the monster’s screech lasted longer and longer. One of its long, deathly hands reaching for Link’s shoulder.

She tried to call his name, but found that when her fear paralyzed her, it was in a terribly literal sense. She couldn’t move a muscle, not even to scream to Link! He was paralyzed as well, staring up at the creature as it lay its hand on him, bony fingers digging into his shoulder as its mouth closed on the side of his neck. 

Zelda watched Link wither under the bite of this monster, herself helpless to act; and then their stasis broke and Link lifted his sword and plunged it into the creature’s torso, pushing the creature off him. He was gasping for breath with wide, half-crazed eyes as the blade slid out. But the monster didn’t back down; in fact it hardly seemed aware that it had been run through as it stalked towards him once again.

“Link!” she cried out, but he threw out his hand in another signal. _Let me handle this._ He eyed the beast with extreme hesitation and stayed just out of the range of its slow sword swings. Inch by inch, he led it to the opposite side of the cave, as far from her as possible.

Since it seemed wholly focused on Link, Zelda fled to the other side of the room, but she tripped over the second heap on the ground in her rush, knocking over the torch and barely dodging its flame. She rushed to right it, but she saw, to her horror, the pile of bones began to pick itself up from the ground and head towards her. It was a second, identical creature!

It swung its sword at her. She dodged, but barely, skittering away from the thing as it bore down on her. Oh, no, oh, no! It swung again and she screamed, covering her ears so its answering wail wouldn’t chill her to the bone in its paralyzing terror. It opened its mouth, and Zelda truly feared that the last thing she would see was that thing’s gaping maw.

Suddenly the tip of the Master Sword burst from its chest and then disappeared, only for the blade to flash from behind as Link hacked at the creature with vicious determination. His attack would have maimed and felled any other creature, but this one, like its fellow, was uninjured and unbothered as it turned its attention on Link, who now had to deal with both of these monsters.

She had to do something, so she fell back on her greatest, most reliable tool: her brain. _Think, Zelda, think!_

This monster’s deadliest weapon was clearly its scream. It was slow, so it used its voice to paralyze its prey and then attack at its own pace. If she could protect him against its scream, they stood a much better chance!

She opened her research journal and tore an empty page out of the back. She ripped that page into pieces, wadded up those pieces and tried to stuff them in her ear, but couldn’t get them small enough to fit snugly in. So, she spat on the pages, summoning every drop of saliva she could to pack the papers into a smaller, more condensed shape. Sure enough, the second time she tried, the makeshift earplug fit like a glove.

Finished with her first earplug, Zelda quickly made her second. The fight continued, with Link keeping in close enough range to both monsters to focus on swordplay instead of their voice. Link swung at the things and managed to knock one back, but the other caught his sword with a parry and knocked it away, leaving Link no choice but to run for it. It opened its mouth--

Zelda shoved her second earplug the moment the monster loosed its shriek. She still heard it through the paper, but the paralyzing quality in its voice was gone. She could move!

Link was frozen mid-step as he reached for his sword, his frantic expression perfectly preserved. The creature was coming closer and closer to him, lifting that bony-fingered hand once again.

Zelda sprinted across the room and threw herself at Link, knocking him out of the monster’s reach. They landed in a heap together, and she wasted no time leaping up, slinging her arms under his armpits, and dragging him further away from his assailant. 

By then the stasis wore off, and Link gave a start as he shot up, gasping for breath. “Why aren’t you frozen?”

“I made--” She saw the creature open its mouth again. She clapped her hands over Link’s ears in the split second before the scream rattled their bones again. She curled inward, frightened by the sound, but never stopped looking at Link. His eyes were dazed and shocked and relieved all at once, darting around as he realized he could still move. 

The scream passed after several seconds, and Zelda quickly pulled her earplugs out and inserted them into Link’s own ears. “Earplugs,” she explained, climbing off him. “I’ll be fine--I can make more!”

He nodded and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing vigorously. “Hurry, and stay back!”

“I know! I am!” She scrambled away and quickly made a new set of earplugs, stuffing them into her ears and then pressing up against the rock wall of the chamber. Link had resumed his careful dance around the creatures, brimming with angry zeal anger now that he was unfazed by their piercing wails. Without the power of stasis, they were lumbering things that Link easily fought, timing his powerful strikes until, in mere moments, both creatures crumpled to the ground and lay their swords aside, moving so slowly it seemed deliberate. It was like they surrendered rather than died.

Link stood over them, chest heaving, limbs trembling. He almost looked unhinged. “Link?” Zelda said, quiet as she peeled off the wall and walked over to him. His neck wept from the bite the monster left, but he seemed unaware of anything but himself and his prey.

“They’re nothing.” He sucked in a harsh breath, stumbling backward until he hit the wall. He slid down, whole body trembling, the Master Sword quaking in a white-knuckled hand. “They’re just death. And they bit me, and they wanted my life, and they were going to kill me for it. I’ve already--”

He choked back his words but failed to do the same for his tears. Of these, too, he seemed unaware, his face screwed up in anger rather than sadness.

She walked slowly towards him, his maddened stare flicking between her and the creatures until she sat down at his side. Her hand found his on the sword and squeezed it gently. “Put it down. It’s okay.”

A long moment, and then his grip eased. The sword’s hilt fell to the ground with a _thump._ Zelda carefully set it aside, and then pulled out first his earplugs and then her own, stuffing them away in her pocket. “Tell me what happened.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed harshly as he swallowed again. “When that thing bit me, it wasn’t like it was doing it to hurt me. It wanted to suck the life out of me. And when I felt it start to do that, I knew that there was nothing inside of it. No life, no consciousness. It’s walking death. And I knew that feeling.”

“How?”

“Because I died.” His chin wobbled. “I felt the presence of death in them, and it was _familiar._ It scared me so much.” In all their time together, even when she watched over him from the innards of Calamity Ganon, she had never seen him really, truly afraid. Despite his fierce, courageous front, he had wavered once or twice in his quests but in a dignified sort of way--a curated, performative sort of way, she now realized. She had never seen something cut him so deeply.

Again, she moved slowly, watching him for cues as she embraced him firmly, gently, wholly. Unlike in the chamber with the gears, his arms clung to her out of desperation to receive comfort rather than give it. She felt his shuddering breaths as she tucked his head under her chin. His fingers knotted in her tunic. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”

They sat there for a long while. After a time, his breathing calmed.

“It’s the same exact feeling as I had in the Shrine of Resurrection,” he mumbled, voice muffled by her shirt. “I didn’t even know I had a memory of that feeling. Of all the memories I lost, why did I have to keep that one?”

Now that he seemed to have collected himself, Zelda let him go and moved to sit beside him. “Their screams freeze us in place, but the effect wore off after a certain amount of time. It reminds me of how the Stasis rune works. And then you say that these… creatures, these undead beings, gave you the same feeling you had while you were convalescing in the Shrine of Resurrection. Considering how old this place is, I think we’re seeing prototypical results, for lack of a better word, of Sheikah technology.”

“Prototypes?” He shot her a look of doubt. “You think the Sheikah took those things’ abilities?”

“Perhaps, or the Sheikah granted its most powerful abilities to its soldiers.” She opened her journal, a habit whenever she had thoughts to record, but her eyes remained on Link and the page remained blank. “You said before that this place seems like a fortress designed to keep people out. If they’re willing to sacrifice innocent lives to protect this power, then stationing soldiers with powerful abilities here seems well within the realm of possibility.”

He looked like he was one step away from retching. “You think the Sheikah gave those powers to those monsters?”

“I think so.” Zelda didn’t voice her further conclusion. If the Iron Knight and these undead beasts were once soldiers ordered to defend this dungeon, they could have once been human, only to be corrupted by the great powers bestowed upon them.

Link spent one hundred years in the Shrine of Resurrection. Could that possibly happen to him?

That wasn’t a worry for now. She couldn’t afford a worry like that while their lives were still very much in jeopardy. She started tearing at the edge of her tunic, ripping off a strip about an inch wide. Link watched in confusion until she turned to him again and started to pull on his arm to lean him forward. “Zelda, I’m fine.”

“We have to dress your wound, at least.” Her eyes flashed, and Link obediently leaned forward. She wrapped the fabric snugly around his neck. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you safe from infection until we get out.”

He met her with a look of such vulnerability that Zelda was momentarily taken aback. He looked at her so tenderly and gratefully, that stone face shattering to reveal the warm heart underneath. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Link.” 

He waved vaguely at her waist. “Sorry about your shirt.”

Despite the situation, she chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. A princess will never run short of blouses.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the gate that had opened when they felled the Undead, as she decided to call them, but had gone unnoticed until now. “Are you ready keep moving?”

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. In, out. In, out. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“All right.” She stood and extended her hand. He grasped her arm in a vice-like grip and she pulled him to his feet. She retrieved the earplugs from her pocket, passing him one pair. “If you need rest, say the word.”

Zelda went to pick up the torch, forgotten once again in the fray. “I’m starting to wonder if there really will be an end,” she confessed. “It seems so endless, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not afraid of endless.” There was a slight, traitorous tremor in his voice, but it was gone as he continued, “You said yourself that there must be a way out or else this dungeon couldn’t be built, right?”

She nodded. “The atmosphere’s taking a toll on me, that’s all.”

“Then stay close and hold the torch high.” He picked up the Master Sword, though he didn’t return it to its sheath. “And keep your mind working. I’m starting to think it’s the only thing that can get us out of here.”

In any other circumstance, Zelda would have felt immense pride and gratitude at his statement, but now she only said, “I’ve got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! I was really excited to do this chapter, mainly because I was excited finally to see Link really be afraid of something. Please let me know what you think--I love hearing from you!


	8. The Tandem Trial

Before long, Zelda and Link arrived at the entrance of yet another chamber, heralded by two tall lanterns, the first things Zelda noticed. They weren’t merely empty torches waiting to be lit; these had a closed case on top of their six-foot-tall supports that glowed from within, a soft blue shade similar to the lights in the Sheikah Shrines. A diamond switch identical to the one in their very first puzzle chamber stood between the lanterns. It was their light that allowed Zelda finally to see what Link had wordlessly fixated on.

A gaping pit the length of Hyrule Castle’s ballroom stretched before them. Just like the room with the unstable stone platforms, this pit went so deep that its bottom was obscured by darkness. Zelda could see pinpricks of identical blue light on the far side, likely signaling the resumption of their path forward. Link sighed, hands on hips as he looked out over the gap. “What is it with the ancient Sheikah and their bottomless pits?”

“If it ain’t broke, I suppose.”

“Fair enough.” 

Link went over to one of the diamond switches, but Zelda held her hand out. “Wait. Let’s investigate before we activate those. I want to gather as much data as possible.”

There was a touch of familiarity in his voice as he said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Zelda knelt by the edge of the pit, feeling Link’s cautionary stare on her as she reached down with the torch. Sure enough, this pit was as endless as the first one. She swept the torch side to side--

The torch knocked against something. A jutting crag, maybe? But when she brought the light closer, there was nothing there for her to hit. Again she hit the torch against this invisible thing, which produced a quiet, wooden _thwack._ She ran the torch along the barrier, growing more and more curious as she picked up some slight drag upon the wood, greater than the friction she ought to have applied. And just as she was wondering what this barrier could be, its weight disappeared, and she fell aside, almost toppling over. Link grabbed her arm, but she was impervious to fear in the thrall of analysis. “Interesting, indeed.”

She searched for barriers along the edge of the gap and produced similar results. Sometimes the torch _thwack_ ed against something and sometimes it didn’t, and there was no consistent pattern when she doubled back. Her experimentation on the control was finished, so it was time to move on and test the variable.

“All right. Trigger the switch.”

Link did so. The lanterns went out, cloaking the chamber in darkness until more light appeared from the pit. Thin orange streaks faded into being, outlining small, transparent boxes that moved slowly back and forth. She saw the Sheikah eye emblazoned on the boxes as they brushed snugly up against each other, rather like the tiles she and Link traversed earlier. With that realization came another conclusion: they weren’t boxes at all. They were platforms!

Just as she reached that conclusion, the orange platforms disappeared and the blue lantern light returned. “Link!” she huffed, spinning around to face him. “Why’d you turn it off?”

“I didn’t!” Link threw his hands up in surrender. “It did that on its own!”

“What are you talking about?” Sure enough, the lights went out again without either of them touching the switch. The orange platforms reappeared in the darkness, continuing their slow treks. This time, she noticed that they all moved at the same speed and along their own individual paths, never veering from their fixed courses. And then the light returned and the platforms disappeared.

Zelda went toward the edge once again and brushed the torch alongside it, waiting for the darkness to return. When it did, she watched one platform glide towards the edge and rest right against it. She ran her torch up to it, producing the same _thwack_ as she saw before. As the platform slid into the light of the torch, however, she watched it vanish once again. Carefully she reached out her hand and pressed on the platform in the light; her hand met flat, solid stone. “The light only obscures the platforms’ appearance,” she said, brushing her hair over her shoulders so it wouldn’t fall into her face as it so often did. When they were battling shadows, she must protect her line of sight. “It doesn’t make them dematerialize.”

“That’s a good sign,” Link remarked as the lights flicked back on. “The lights turn on and off at ten second intervals. It’s a test of memory.”

“And of courage.” She climbed to her feet. “It makes me wonder if there’s a way to stop the flashing light. It might be easier to cross this gap in total light or total darkness, but not both.”

Link obediently struck the switch again. No change, only the steady flashing of the lanterns. “Looks like this is our test. This would be difficult enough with one person. Twice as tough with two.”

Zelda offered helpfully, “We could go one at a time, maybe.”

“Absolutely not.” His voice was firm. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

They were in terrible circumstances, but he could make her cheeks warm nonetheless. Well, it was a nice feeling to have if it turned out to be one of her last as they attempted this treacherous crossing.

“Okay.” Her voice was a little strained. “How do you propose we go about this, then?”

He walked up to the edge of the pit, watching the methodical movements of the platforms as they blipped in and out of existence. “Simple. We watch the patterns and jump on my count. As long as we pay attention while the lights are off, we should be able to make it across.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“We’re lucky it’s as simple as it is.” 

He held his hand out. She clasped it, and he glanced over at her just as the darkness switched to light, revealing his delighted smirk.” “I was actually asking for the torch.”

“Oh.” Blushing heartily, she handed the torch over. 

“You had the right idea,” he said, offering his arm to her. “Keep ahold of my arm. As long as we move in tandem, we’re fine.”

“As long as we’re in tandem.” Arm in arm, they drew up to the edge of the pit. “The first platform, if I remember correctly, comes right up to the edge. We should be able to step on.”

“All right. Five, four, three…”

The moment he reached _one_ , the lights flicked off and revealed an orange platform waiting for them. They stepped together onto it, so close to one another that they behaved like a singular organism. They waited and observed the next platform after one round each of light and dark, noting that it, too, would butt against the edge of the first. 

So, they stepped together onto another orange prism and moved further across the cavern.

“See?” said Link. “Not so tricky.”

The next platform presented a bigger challenge. It drew close to them during the dark when they could see, but not close enough for them only to step to. They would have to jump.

“Get ready, Zelda.” Her hand found his once again. Their fingers laced together. “On three. One, two, three!”

They leaped through the air and landed on the next platform. The momentum carried Zelda forward, but Link’s sturdy arm kept her rooted in place. When the darkness flashed once again, they saw their next steppingstone moved parallel to their current one, but their platforms glided back and forth in opposite directions. “We have to watch our timing,” she warned.

He nodded, and together they watched the platforms pass each other through two rounds of light and dark, Link counting silently under his breath until he finally said, “On three. One, two, three.”

They jumped. Zelda landed squarely on the platform, but Link had made a misstep or perhaps overcompensated for their speed, because he wobbled and fell to the side, toppling over the edge. He let go of her hand, unwilling to drag his charge to an untimely death alongside him. Loyal to the end.

“No!” She grabbed his arm with both hands and halted his fall, digging her heels into the stone platform to catch. The torch slipped from his fingers in his surprise. The lights flicked back on but they didn’t reach into the pit, and Zelda watched the light shrink as the torch fell down, down, down, until swallowed by murky black.

She watched his legs scramble for purchase against nothingness as she heaved him over the edge of the platform just as darkness returned, bathing them in the orange light of their platform. They curled up together, keenly wary of the close edges, panting and gripping one another even though the danger had passed. The lights turned on and off, the platform glided back and forth, but Zelda and Link were immovable, limbs tangled together as they recovered from the shock.

He was always so willing to throw himself in the face of danger, but Zelda felt the pangs of fear every time he stepped in its path. Why must he be so willing to fight to the death? He had already done it once!

Link’s voice was muffled by her shirtsleeve. “Thanks for holding on.”

“Always.”

Their heads lifted. Zelda watched as his pupils contracted in the sudden switch to light. He was determined, and his ferocity gave her strength. “Are you ready to keep going?”

“Yes.” They carefully climbed to their feet, returned to their interlocked configuration, and assessed the situation. The next platform was no greater challenge; they’d just have to time it right.

“I think the torch might’ve held us back,” he said. “I misjudged the edge.”

“Good riddance, then.”

“Good riddance. One, two, three.”

They jumped together again and landed squarely. Link’s arm tensed beside her as he watched his footing more closely this time. “Are you all right?”

“Just fine. C’mon, let’s keep moving.”

They progressed across the gap, methodically observing and timing their leaps, all while working half in darkness. Their system worked until they reached the final platform, the last steppingstone between them and solid ground. The catch with this one was not only that they would have to jump for it, but also that it only drew close to them while the lights were on, rendering it invisible. Link sighed. 

“Another leap of faith,” he muttered. “Would it kill them to give us a break?”

“We’ve been making leaps of faith this entire time.” As usual, they waited and watched until they were certain they had the pattern down. And yet the thought of leaping into nothingness stilled her legs and made her heart thunder. “Do we know what we’re doing?”

“We can do it, Zelda.” He gave her a reassuring look. Her legs steadied, but her heart didn’t slow at all. If they got out of this mess alive, she resolved to tell Link about all the times he made her heart flutter, and how his warmth and dependability had become her saving grace. Yes, another leap of faith.

She nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“One, two, three!”

Together they jumped through the air. They landed successfully on the platform, though the discomforting feeling of standing on _nothing_ made her dizzy. Then the platform glided to the edge and they walked off, splitting apart and individually falling to all fours. Zelda sighed with relief, spreading her hands across the stony ground, fingers trembling with adrenaline. “You did that for one hundred and twenty Sheikah Shrines?” she gasped.

Link had flopped onto his back and was staring up at the ceiling. “I’d be lucky if they were all like that.”

She let out a dry, desperate laugh. “I told you I envied you for your privilege of trying the Shrines. Not anymore.”

“Sounds like you’ve seen the light.”

“Speaking of …” She looked into the tunnel that beckoned them, as inky dark and dangerous as the pit they just traversed. “We’re going to have quite the trek up ahead. We’re in total darkness.”

With a groan, Link picked himself up and walked over to a diamond switch Zelda hadn’t noticed before. He struck it with the Master Sword, and suddenly the darkness in the room returned to light, and the orange platforms appeared, stilled, and glowed blue for a moment before vanishing entirely. Their trial had ended, and as usual they had no exit route. They had to keep pressing on.

She stood as he rejoined her side. “No way but forward,” she said. “Whatever’s waiting for us down there, I’m ready to confront it.”

“Then why are we standing around?” He reached for her hand again. Zelda sent him a questioning look that he ignored as he said, “If we’re going in without light, I want you to stay as close to me as possible.”

“Very well, Link.” She took his hand. Her truth almost tumbled from her lips, filled with gratitude for this steadfast knight at her side and love for the man who bore the sword that seals the darkness, but…

It would change everything. And if they were going to get out of here alive, Zelda and Link both needed to be able to predict what would happen next. She couldn’t afford an untested variable.

They kept close and silent and marched onward.

The darkness in this tunnel was oppressive, seeping into Zelda’s bones and wrapping her heart in dread. Link’s hand closed more tightly on hers, keeping her near his side; maybe the darkness had the same effect on him. There was something different about this leg of the path, something so foreboding that their quarry, this great, mythical, devastating power, must wait ahead with their exit.

At long last, they reached the next room. A massive archway opened into a huge hall lit by Sheikah lanterns, rather like the room where they found the gear apparatus. Here, too, was an identical arrangement of gears, barbaric points and all, attached to the center of the ceiling and stretching downward. But these gears were already turning and whirring away, mounted upon a dark stalactite emblazoned with a blue Sheikah eye. A bright orange liquid dripped from the tip and onto a stone casket that sat directly beneath it, splashing onto its surface. Both the stalactite and casket were made of the same material as the Sheikah Slate. Now she saw what the lever under the first set of gears was: it was an ‘on’ switch for this mechanism.

“Look.” He pointed ahead at another gated archway across the room. “A way out.”

“Perfect!” Her eyes slid to the casket, scholarly curiosity gripping her. “Let’s…take a look at this first. It may be the key to getting us out of here.”

With Link shadowing her protectively, Zelda drew close to the casket, watching as the orange liquid flowed through grooves etched into the lid of the casket, filling out simple, clean designs. The first was of a Sheikah eye--an _inverted_ Sheikah eye, she realized with a chill, along with a profile view of a boar’s head, a powerful tusk jutting into the air.

“Do you know what these mean?” asked Link. “I mean, the first one’s pretty clear. It’s tried to kill me over and over again. And I’ve seen boar statues in Eldin, but I don’t know what they mean.”

Zelda swallowed, remembering a sickly maroon boar against a burning sky. “The boar is an ancient symbol of evil power,” she said, trying to keep her voice from quaking. “The inverted Sheikah eye with the boar’s head has a very clear translation: _Yiga power.”_


	9. The Great Relic

Link lurched forward and stuck his cupped hands under the stalactite, clearly some sort of proto-Sheikah Stone, and caught a bright orange drop of liquid with both hands. He winced, and Zelda cried, “What are you doing?”

“Whatever this thing is pumping into this coffin,” he retorted, “we don’t want it to fill up!”

Another drop fell. He grimaced at the impact. “Find a cup or something, quick!”

She started to move, but then her curiosity took hold of her once again. The phrase “Yiga power” was a terrible portent, especially when it’s carved into the tomb in a highly protected labyrinth, but that ancient rumor knocked around her head, the promise of recovered splendor. _A great relic slumbers within Lomei that has the power to make memory material. It must be wielded when no other choice presents itself._

She gazed at Link, whose face was screwing up as he fought the pain. “It’s burning!” she said through gritted teeth.

If this great, slumbering power could bring back his memory…

If things could go back to the way they were…wasn’t it worth it?

“Let it fall, Link.”

His head snapped to her. “Zelda!” he yelled in a tone damn near scolding, a tone that she resented.

“Let it fall!”

“No!”

Another drop splashed into his hands. He hissed and whisked his hands away, blowing on his palms to cool them. “Grab it!” he cried between puffs of breath.

But it was too late. One last drop fell and hit the orange liquid. The orange suddenly faded into bright blue, a familiar signal to her now. The Sheikah used orange to signify a task still in progress, and blue for a task that is complete.

They watched with bated breath as the liquid drained through the lid of the casket. The gears slowed, stilled, and darkened. The air grew quiet.

And then the stone lid cracked from an almighty blow from within.

Link jumped to action, grabbing Zelda’s arm and pulling her backward as he drew the Master Sword, all in one fluid motion. Zelda could only watch, transfixed, as the stone lid slid off the casket and fell to the floor, landing with a resounding _boom_.

A second lid followed, this one made of wood and half-destroyed. Then a figure contained within sat up with lightning speed. It was nothing more than a skeletal corpse, a wraith cloaked in the deep red armor and the white mask of the Yiga Clan. The wraith climbed out of the casket with youthful grace, sending scarlet prayer flags fluttering out. Its whole body glowed softly with that blue light of the burning liquid, flowing through long-dead veins. The flesh on the wraith returned as though de-aging, its muscles swelling and the skin growing thick enough to hide its bones. Long, white hair grew out of its skull and tumbled over its shoulders. Soon the blue glow disappeared entirely, and before them stood the most impressive Yiga Clan warrior they had ever seen. It was tall, broad, imposing.

It reached up and removed its white mask. Behind it was the face of a young woman that bore a tattooed Sheikah eye upon it, its tear descending between her deep brown eyes and straight down the slope of her regal nose. But within those eyes was a darkness deeper than any that they had encountered in this dungeon. This place wasn’t a dungeon, she suddenly realized. It was a tomb, a tomb designed to keep visitors away from her.

She straightened up to her full imposing height. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice booming through the room. It was a voice that could carry across the fields of Hyrule. “And why have you dared to awaken me?”

Zelda lifted her chin. “I am Princess Zelda Nayru Hyrule. I have come to seek your aid.”

A sick, unhinged smile spread across the woman’s face. “You are fools, then! How terrible are your disasters that you seek the immortal enemy of your throne, princess?” She spat that last word like a curse and then turned to Link. “And you, who bears the sword that put me in this very coffin! Maybe you’ve come to exact revenge on me, prolonging your father’s victory!”

A shudder ran down Zelda’s spine. Had this person been so deadly that a new hero had to rise in order to eliminate the threat? Just who was she?

Link’s face was stone, his voice steel. “It wasn’t my father who killed you. You’ve been down here so long that we don’t even know who you are.”

“Bah!” She spat. “The throne might have torn me from its history books, but not even those traitor Sheikah wanted me gone. Why would they throw away their greatest chance at vengeance?”

Link brandished his sword. “I won’t ask again. Who are you?”

“I am a loyal Sheikah who seeks the best for Hyrule.”

“Then why do you bear the mark of the Yiga Clan?”

The woman was taken aback for a brief moment, and then smiled haughtily. “Perhaps I have not been ripped from history after all.”

She gave an exaggerated bow, sweeping her arm in a circle before dipping low. “I am the first Sheikah warrior who had the courage not to bend to Hylian will. I am the first rebel who inspired a revolution. I am Master Yiga, the founder of the rebels that became known as the Yiga Clan!”

Zelda’s blood ran cold. “Y-You’re a shame to the Sheikah!”

“Then why would they inter me here?” Master Yiga threw her arms wide, gesturing to the room. “Why would they build this shrine if they were ashamed of me? Why would they ever plan to resurrect me--unless they knew all along that I was right?”

“About what?” Link asked through gritted teeth.

“About the throne.” Master Yiga glared at Zelda. “Your ancestors used our technology and abused our people, all in the name of fighting Calamity Ganon. I may have been the first to say so, but there were many of us who knew leaving it in your hands was too dangerous. I was the first to decry our elder’s decision to leave the Divine Beasts in your custody; Hylians are unchecked warmongers. They trail blood wherever they step. But our elder held firm, so I and others left, vowing to stop you. So many others! Together we knew we could reclaim the Sheikah relics stolen by the crown!”

She let out a shrieking, maddened laugh. “And they knew I was right!” she howled. “They knew they would need a warrior of my power someday, whenever the royal family overstepped their boundaries and needed someone to keep them in check!”

Her eyes glowed blue, the same shade as the liquid lifeblood. “I feel the power of my people flowing through me. The memory of my plans, of the sweet taste of Sheikah power! 

Master Yiga spread her arms out and then lifted into the air, hovering effortlessly above the ground. Out of the casket behind her rose two sickening sickles that floated into her hands. “I was buried as a secret weapon to be awoken in the darkest hour. But my targets have awoken me themselves! The past comes into the present, and your future is now over, Princess Zelda!”

She launched herself at them, sickles shining in the soft blue light as they sliced downward. Link elbowed Zelda out of the way as he swung his sword high and caught her blades with his. The clash rang through the chamber, followed by more as Link and Master Yiga unleashed a fury of blows on each other, with the former beating back the latter every time she tried to dive at Zelda. Yes, Master Yiga had the significant aerial advantage, and Link was just barely knocking her back. Zelda tried to observe, to analyze and assist her knight like with his previous foes, but she couldn’t glean anything from the unhinged madness of Master Yiga. There was no flaw in her defense, no crack in her armor. She was unbeatable, and the only reason she hadn’t yet killed Zelda was because Link keeping her safe, but only just.

Link met her sickles with his blade, but she bore down on him with infinite strength while his own was waning. He braced his free hand against the sword, the edge cutting deep into his palm. Zelda watched his sleeve redden as blood trickled down his arm. 

Master Yiga noticed this, too. “You would bleed for your princess, just like the last one,” she sneered. “You heroes show such blind loyalty to the throne!”

Link shoved her away. “My loyalty is not blind,” he spat, “but earned.”

“Through bloodshed, no doubt! You bleed now, but your hands run red with the violence of the crown! How could you support a barbarian?”

“She is Hyrule’s guiding light!”

Yiga dodged his final, sloppy swing, regarding him from on high with disgust. “I cannot break through that loyalty. I will not be like you. I will recognize my faults. And I will find those who can help me take revenge properly. The people of this kingdom will destroy it and then rebuild it from the ground up, starting with Hyrule Castle!”

She flew towards the gate that had snapped shut behind them, attacking the stone with mighty blows. The stone crumbled under her touch and turned to dust, and she flew through, leaving a trail of whorls in the dust.

“Let’s go!” said Zelda, but Link was already sprinting after Yiga, who flew through the tunnel back the way they came. Zelda ran and ran after them until she found them back in the chamber that once held the invisible platforms. Link skidded to a stop at the edge and stared at the gate across the way, which was nothing more than a swirling cloud of dust in Master Yiga’s wake.

Without wasting a breath, Link ran to the diamond switch on their side of the pit and struck it, but no platforms reappeared. Zelda scooped up an armful of dust and gravel and tossed it over the edge. The dust sank to the murky depths, just like her hopes.

“Let’s check the gate back in the tomb,” said Link. “Maybe there’s a way to open it!”

“Shouldn’t we follow her?”

He gestured to the dark pit. “How are we supposed to do that?”

“Fine!” Together they raced back to the tomb, past the casket, and to the stone gate on the other side. Link pounded his fists upon it while Zelda scoured the area around it for some kind of activating switch. Her stomach had bottomed out, and her heart pounded so powerfully that she thought she would choke on it. She was panicking, but she was containing it. It was the least a princess could do after unleashing an unholy terror on her kingdom.

She gasped when she found a plain brick sticking out of the wall. She pushed it in without thinking. Some of the panic ebbed as the gate slid smoothly under the ground, and in a moment they were running once again, racing down a winding path-- _up_ a winding path, she realized. For the first time since entering this dungeon, they were traveling uphill.

They entered another chamber. This one was perfectly circular with sunlight, real sunlight, shining down. It was faint, both likely due to the time of day (it must be near sunset) and because this pit they were in was so deep that the light up above could hardly be seen. In the center of the pit was a huge spiked ball twenty feet tall and embossed with a Yiga eye. Lying beside it was…

Zelda clapped her hands over her mouth. Lying beside it was the broken, half-decomposed corpse of a man in Yiga reds. 

Link sucked in a breath. “I know where we are.”

He looked up the pit. “We’re under the Yiga Hideout in Karusa Valley. We’re stuck at the bottom of the sheer pit in their backyard.”

She had hung all her hopes of a restored Hyrule on this one vague, ancient rumor, and now, order after arrogant order, she had brought everything she worked for to ruin.

“Both of our exits are impossible,” whispered Zelda, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ve just revived the most powerful Yiga warrior who ever lived. And she’s going to destroy my kingdom.”


	10. At the Bottom of the Pit

The room began to spin. She wished the pit would collapse upon her and bury her, as though the full weight of her realization wasn’t suffocating her plenty. She sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself, clutching tightly. How could she be so stupid, so vain, so arrogant to assume that whatever slept down here would help them? It was painfully clear in hindsight that all the rumors, the pictographs, and the obstacles were warnings, not signposts. And they had figured out that the thing down here was evil, but she hadn’t known it could be alive, conscious, and hell-bent on revenge!

Link’s voice cut through her thoughts. “What do we do, Zelda?”

What was there _to_ do? Her kingdom was doomed, and they were trapped down here forever with no way to stop the destruction Master Yiga would rain upon her people. 

She had made so many mistakes and sacrificed Hyrule because of them! “There’s nothing,” she choked out. “There’s nothing left.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing left?” Link’s voice was hard, his face severe. It was the face he used when commanding his guards, not speaking to his princess. “Hyrule hangs in the balance. We have to do something, and anything will be better than wallowing down here!”

He had never spoken so harshly to her, and it was her shock at being criticized by her most loyal supporter that started to transform her grief into anger. “What can we do? Master Yiga’s beaten us, and we’re stuck down here!”

“We can’t give up!”

“Why shouldn’t we? We lost!” she yelled. “We lost, and Hyrule will be destroyed, and we’ll die down here!” A youth of straining to live up to astronomical expectations came roaring back, all the inadequacy and shame she felt for being unable to wield her family’s sacred sealing power. What kind of foolish princess did she make now, having sent her self-professed arch enemy to slaughter her people?

Tears poured down her face. “I really am just a failure! I was right all those years ago!”

She curled in on herself and sobbed, shudders ripping through her whole body. She was lauded for saving Hyrule for a year or two, and then she had become its destructor. She had defended it for a century only to annihilate it in a single day. She was the worst thing to ever happen to her kingdom.

“Zelda.” Link’s face was hard and wild with passion, and he looked down upon her not with disappointment, but with a complete certainty of what he was about to say. “You’re a failure of a princess as much as I am a failure of a hero.”

“Wha--?” she spluttered. “You didn’t fail! You defeated Ganon!”

“Only after you held him at bay for a century, and only then with your help.” His eyes softened, and he returned the sword to its scabbard, then took the whole thing off as he sat on the ground beside her, laying it at his side. “I am here with you. If you and I can defeat the Calamity, then we can figure out how to get out of a hole.”

Her sobs started to quiet, and hiccups took over. “All I wanted was to rebuild Hyrule,” she whispered, as though remaining quiet would stop her sins from being real. “Make it as splendid and wonderful as it once was. And when the ancient texts said there was something down here that could make memory material, I clung to that hope as hard as I could.”

“Why would you ever want to return to the past?” A troubled shadow passed over his face. “If the Calamity showed us anything, it’s that we needed completely different defenses! I watched King Rhoam pressure you and scold you for living up to an almost-impossible ideal. I don’t remember much of the past, but what I do remember is filled with failure and grief. I don’t want to return to that, so I move forward.”

She was sure he focused on the present and future only because he didn’t have the memories of the past to fall back on. “You had no choice.”

“There is always a choice.” He turned a sorrowful gaze on her, and she knew at once how he saw her: someone who was misguided, and someone who needed help. “Either you stay and wallow, leaving the world to its devices, or you get up and fight until you can’t anymore. We keep moving forward until our legs are cut out from under us.”

The last time someone had spoken like this to her, it was her father scolding her for enjoying her engineering studies. It had only made her feel more like a failure. She was stronger now, wiser, tougher than she used to be. When Link scolded her like this, it lit a fire in her chest and started the gears turning in her mind. He was the switch that brought her to life.

She wiped her face on her sleeve. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess,” she sniffled. “You’ve been nothing but loyal and kind.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t speak kindly to you just now.”

“You’ve been patient with me this whole time, but just now…” She gazed up at him. “Thank you for losing your patience with me. I’ve always admired your bluntness, you know.”

“Then let’s get one thing straight. I will follow you anywhere. As a knight, as a friend.” Something else pulsed in his voice, an undercurrent of devotion. “I will follow you however you will have me.”

She managed a watery smile and stood, extending her hand to Link. “Then follow me back to the tomb. I have an idea.”

He took her hand and she pulled him up. “Anywhere, Princess.”

Zelda already had an idea when they returned to the tomb. The design she had created was rock solid, she knew, but its success hinged on whether they could gather the necessary materials.

“We’re very lucky,” she began, “that the walls of the pit are made of dirt.”

“Only to a point,” Link replied. “It’s lined with metal near the upper edge, but I think I’ll be able to climb us both out of there by then.”

“Both of us? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Zelda went to the empty casket and peered inside. She found an abundance of prayer flags, or what might have been prayer flags but had since turned to paper scraps and dust. But, joy of joys, the stone casket was lined with a smaller, wooden coffin carved with magical runes that, apparently, didn’t do much to contain its treasure. Its lid had been torn asunder by Master Yiga, but the rest was intact, which would provide plenty to work with. “We have everything we need. Link, I’m going to bring the lid of the coffin into the other room.”

He started towards it. “Allow me.”

“No, because you’ll have the harder job.” She pointed at the gears upon the stalactite. “I need you to climb up there and detach as many gears as you can.”

He frowned up at the mechanism. “What? You just said you could climb up sheer metal. Is it possible?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said in a voice that did not at all inspire confidence. “I’ll just have to be careful.”

Together they reached into the casket to pull out the wooden coffin lining. Then Link climbed on top of the stone casket, perching nimbly on its thick edges to straddle the empty gap. He drew the Master Sword and started hacking away at the axle of the gear closest to him. “Watch the pointed cogs!” she called.

“Got it!”

Without further ado, she started dragging the wooden coffin down the hallway toward the pit, their way out. Her plan was a long shot, but just as Link could soldier on, so could she keep moving to save their lives and their kingdom. She could lose faith in herself, her kingdom, or her people, but she would never lose faith in Link.

She dragged the coffin up to the wall and then ran back the way she came, past the burial room (where she noted Link was already making progress, one gear already sitting on the floor), and then back to the platforms room. She retrieved the two undying lanterns on this side of the pit and hurried clumsily back, slowed by the size of her unwieldy quarry. 

She reached the burial room and immediately heard Link shout, “Watch out!”

She froze as a second gear came crashing down beside the casket. “Excellent!”

“Thank you kindly!” Balancing gingerly on the edges of the casket, he moved to the other side of the stalactite, hacking away at the gears there. She brought first the lanterns and then the gears to the room with the Yiga ball, where she finally began the construction phase. She shoved the ends of the lanterns through the gaps in the gears, thanking the goddesses that the lanterns were thin enough on both ends. The ancient Sheikah had tried to trap people within this tomb to prevent Master Yiga’s escape at all costs, but maybe they had left the tools for someone clever and someone daring to formulate an escape.

Then she started ripping apart the coffin with the help of a gear’s sharp cogs, separating its bottom from its sides until she had several different flat panels. It wasn’t so complicated, but it would be slow and exhausting. Rough materials meant rough side effects, but what else was she to do?

After struggling with repurposing the ancient nails in the boards, Zelda stood and went back to the burial chamber to check on Link.

“How’s it going?”

Link now clung to the stalactite fully, legs and one arm wrapped around the rock as he sheared another gear off, which clattered onto a pile of its fellows. “Not bad.”

“Not bad, indeed! I’d wager you’re almost done!” Zelda hurried over and started collecting some of the gears. “If you could just find a few more small ones, then we’ll be good to go.”

He returned to his task, striking at the smaller gears with an almost surgical precision. As she turned away, though, she could swear she saw a proud little smile on his face. 

Zelda skittered back and forth between that room and the next, filling in the final, most vital pieces to her contraption. That scholarly thrill ran through her as she put all her brains into saving their lives, and thus the lives of her subjects. 

She came into the burial chamber one last time to gather the smaller gears. “This should be exactly what I need, Link! You can come down now!”

Link heaved a grateful sigh and climbed down from his perch, landing heavily in the stone casket. “So, what’s the plan here, Zelda?”

“I’m afraid it involves a great deal more physical labor on both our parts.” Gears in arms, she led him back to the room where her contraption was housed. She had built an elevator like the pulley system they used to bring supplies to the overground labyrinth. The wooden planks of the coffin became a platform for them to stand on, the lanterns were handles to turn, and the gears would do the literal heavy lifting, their sharp points piercing the dirt wall and hauling them skyward. “We’ll both have to crank quite hard,” she explained as she fit the last few gears into their places, “but this will scale the wall well, I think. And then we’ll be in the heart of the Yiga Clan Hideout. I confess I haven’t quite figured out what happens next.”

“Don’t worry, Zelda.” Despite the exhaustion she already saw permeating his body, despite the wounds he’d accrued over their journey, despite the relentless support he’d given her at the cost of his own strength, he flashed her a smile. “I can take care of the Yiga Clan.”

“Are you sure?” She stepped away from her creation. “The state you’re in--”

“I’ve been in worse.” He exuded utter confidence as he added, “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” She had vowed to tell him how she truly felt if they made it out of here alive. They barreled toward an uncertain future that, despite his confidence, they had no guarantees of surviving what would happen next.

This may be the last time she could share her secret.

“Link.” She took a deep breath. “I am truly sorry for everything that transpired. I won’t be so cavalier with your safety any longer.”

He frowned. “How many times do I have to reassure you that I’ll keep you safe?”

“I will never doubt your ability or judgement. It’s just…” Her hands trembled, so she clenched them to quell the shaking. “If I were ever to lose you again, as though once wasn’t enough, I don’t know how I’d be able to bear it.”

It was now or never. He may not love her back, he may never remember if he loved her in the first place, but they couldn’t go into this last battle without him knowing the truth.

“I love you, Link. I’ve loved you for one hundred years.” She covered her face with her hands, immediately feeling like she’d been yanked out into the cold. “I’m sorry to overwhelm you like this. If you wish to be released from duty, I will annul your fealty to the crown.”

The long silence that fell convinced her she made the right choice in looking away from his face, unsure if she could bear what she found. But she was overwhelmed by curiosity--what could he possibly be thinking?--and finally looked up.

His eyes were wide with shock and something else. That something was aching or bittersweet or something else she couldn’t recognize. But he wasn’t hiding his emotions, no. It was Zelda’s fault she couldn’t read him.

His mouth opened and closed several times until he landed on what to say. “I’m not good with words, Your Highness.”

Oh, she couldn’t bear it! “For both our sakes, please don’t draw this out. All I want is to know how you feel.”

His eyes softened. “I’ll tell you by doing something I would never have had the courage to one hundred years ago.”

She gave the slightest nod.

Slowly, Link cradled her face with his hands, filthy with dust and blood and moving as tenderly as a nurse’s. He studied her, waiting for any possible refusal from her, but her heart was once again pounding at this sudden closeness, this intimacy she had wished for from him for ages but never indulged the hope that she could get it. He was an amnesiac, he was duty-bound to protect her--

His lips pressed to hers in a feather-light kiss. She didn’t think such a battle-hardened knight could possibly kiss like this, so sweet and gentle. He was an amnesiac, he was duty-bound, and he was kissing her as though afraid of what might happen, as though she hadn’t just confessed her devotion to him!

He pulled away from her to take in her expression. “Zelda,” he breathed, but if he had something else to say, he didn’t get a chance.

She pulled him to her again and kissed him back, knotting her fingers into the fabric of his tunic. They both grew more confident, more passionate now that they each knew where the other stood. Sweet relief washed over Zelda: _he loves me, too._

“I heard rumors of your feelings for me back in the day,” he whispered, “but I had no idea if they held true. You’re a different woman after the Calamity, just like I’m a different man. I didn’t know if you would love me, so I said nothing.”

“Does that mean you loved me all this time?”

He shrugged, biting his lip. “I don’t know if I loved you back then. What I do know is that I love you now with all my heart. I fell for you as I watched you rebuild Hyrule, working selflessly for your kingdom, and as you threw yourself into research that would push it forward. To me, that’s all that matters.”

She swallowed hard. “But your memories. How do you know if you love me if you don’t know who you are?”

“ _This_ is who I am now.” Sincerity radiated from him, intense and shining. “I am the knight who would never leave your side. And I’m the man who will fight for your life when we make it to the surface.”

She had loved Link for so long. She had loved the version of him in the past, and the one that faced her now. She would love any version of him, she knew, and this one was telling her the same thing. He would love her, no matter what he remembered or who he thought he was. Steadfast, as always.

She pleaded, “Fight for both of us, because I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t.” He took her hand and pressed it over his heart. “I promise.”

“Then let’s go.” She nodded to the elevator, wiping her face again. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

“Spent, maybe, but I wouldn’t call that time a waste.” He smiled at her, sweet and just a little cocky. Cockiness looked rather good on him, didn’t it?

Together they went to the elevator, climbed on, and took hold of the crank. They counted to three and started winding it, struggling to gain momentum. The pointed cogs sank into the earth and started to propel them upward, inch by inch. “Yes!” Zelda cheered. “It works!”

“Of course, it does,” said Link. “I never doubted you for a second.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Together they turned the crank and inched back to the surface world, working in perfect harmony.


	11. The Yiga and their Hideout

The climb back to the surface was slow and draining, but Zelda and Link worked diligently to propel their little ramshackle lift upward. She tried not to think about how flimsy her fastenings were, having only hammered the ancient nails with the side of a gear, and she tried not to think of what would happen when they took on the Yiga Clan alone. If they were lucky, maybe they could flee into the Gerudo Highlands, but they couldn’t possibly get back to their expedition by the labyrinth in time before Master Yiga got to the castle. Oh, why did she ever give back the Sheikah Slate?

The light of the sky grew larger, but it grew darker much more quickly. Night will have fallen by the time they reach the surface once again. She could only pray they could use the cover of darkness to slip into the Yiga Hideout, pass through undetected, and make a break across the desert for their camp. That was a best-case scenario, a highly unlikely ideal.

So, they would fight, possibly confront Master Yiga (her words about seeking assistance rang dreadfully in the back of Zelda’s mind), and then figure out a way to overpower her. But how did they overpower such a powerful warrior? Zelda had no combat training, and Link’s strength would be depleted by the time they reached the surface, not to mention the strain of the injuries he’d attained in the course of their journey. Zelda was persuasive, sure, but not enough to convince arch enemies of the crown not to execute them!

Link interrupted her reverie. “Look.” He pointed upward, bracing the crank with his thigh. They were approaching the edge of the sheet metal lining of the pit, far deeper than they had expected. Instead of covering the upper third of the pit as she had suspected, it instead came all the way down to the halfway point. That was a problem.

“I can’t carry you out of here if I’m climbing that long,” he said, reading her mind. “There’s no way.”

All right. They’d just have to adapt. “Then we stay on the elevator. The metal will be tougher, but the points on the gears should be sharp enough to pierce through it.”

Link raised his eyebrows, doubtful. “You sure?”

“No,” she said with a shrug, “but what else can we do?”

He shrugged and then, with a grunt, threw himself back into cranking. They reached the edge of the metal lining, took a breath together, and then heaved on the lever at the count of three.

The first point pierced through the metal. Zelda poured all her strength onto the lever, and soon another point punctured it, and then another, and another. They were doing it! They were still climbing!

Link flashed her a relieved smile. “I knew it would work.”

“No, you didn’t,” she shot back. “The materials leave something to be desired, but my designs are dependable.”

“And so are you.”

There she went, blushing like a schoolgirl!

Master Yiga shattered the rock wall. She shot out and upward, eyes adjusting to the sunlight that hadn’t fallen on her in thousands of years.

She was in some sort of maze crawling with civilians and Hylian soldiers, the latter of whom turned to her and drew their swords upon seeing her. What must she be to them? A monster, a villain, some sort of creature? She saw a handful of Sheikah staring up at her in terror; didn’t they know she was going to save them from Hylian tyranny?

An arrow whistled by her, shot from a soldier perched high upon the wall. She soared down the main hallway and out of the labyrinth, dodging arrows and listening to the frightened shrieks from her own people. No matter; they would understand soon, when she tore Hyrule Castle to shreds!

Where was her clan? Where was that loyal band of rebels who followed her out of the Sheikah tribe and into the desert? They must still be here, surely; they wouldn’t dare abandon their founder!

She breached the mesa and arrived in the desert. The heat shone off the dunes, warming her cold, ageless bones. This was as fine a place to start a revolution. Now she had to gather her troops.

She traveled to the notch within the hills of the highlands, alternating between flying and walking as she tired. She ran the back of her hand over her forehead to wipe the sweat, only to discover with a shock that the flesh was intact. She had scarred herself when she broke from the Sheikah tribe, burning the tattoo that marked her as a member. It made sense that her skin would regenerate with the help of the lifeblood, but would it cleanse the ink or was she marked as a Sheikah still?

She decided her first order of business upon reaching her old headquarters would be to find a mirror.

The valley leading to it sloped upward on a sandy hill, the setting sun blotted out with the curves of the hills. As she climbed, foot soldiers wearing her red appeared in bursts of prayer flags and attacked, but she dispatched them with passionless efficiency, trusting their resilience but not striking deep enough to kill all the same. Once the foot soldiers fell, though, they were instantly replaced by stronger blademasters wielding swords infused with the power of wind. She dispatched them, too, until finally a young woman--a _very_ young woman--wearing the clan master’s garb appeared in a burst of smoke and prayer flags, wielding twin vicious sickles. Black hair whipping about her in the wind, she surveyed the scene, taking in the dozen fighters cut down in Master Yiga’s wake. She gave a start when her eyes fell on Master Yiga, and then threw her arms out, signaling to her comrades to stay their hands. “Do not hurt her! She’s royalty.”

“Do not call me royalty,” she snapped. “But I am Master Yiga, the original splitter of the Sheikah tribe and founder of the Yiga Clan.”

The current master returned her weapons to her belt and bowed. The rest followed suit. “We are humbled by your presence, Master Yiga. I am Master Nola.”

“Rise, Master Nola.” Master Yiga waved her hand, and Nola obeyed. “What is the state of my clan?”

“Not well, Master Yiga.” Nola scowled. “The princess and her appointed knight averted the Calamity last year, setting back our progress considerably. I’ve focused on bolstering our combat training while we rethink our strategies.”

Master Yiga had missed a lot of history. It would do her well to catch up. “Let us go inside so I may understand what has progressed between our times.”

“Of course,” said Nola, though she hesitated. “May you permit me one curiosity, great founder?”

She waved her hand again, impatiently this time. “Sure.”

“Where did you come from?”

She scoffed. How much history had been lost? “From beneath the labyrinth, of course.”

Nola gasped. “I knew it!”

“Of course, you did,” she snapped. “My clan would find out where I was buried even after I was given to Sheikah custody.”

“Maybe once. But time has ravaged our records and turned your grave’s location into the stuff of rumor and legend. The story went that you were buried under the labyrinth, but we didn’t know for sure.” Her eyes lit up. “So, when Princess Zelda began exploring it, we watched her and defended her expedition in hopes it would unearth you. And it did!”

She spread her arms and declared to her subordinates, “Our plan worked! This is cause for celebration!”

The clan cheered, but Master Yiga remained utterly quiet as anger built within her. Bile rose in her throat. “You worked with the crown.”

Nola looked at her questioningly, then shrugged. “That’s a way of putting it. They didn’t know it, but we were looking out for their best interests, which were also our best interests.”

“You worked with the crown.” Was this what became of her noble clan? “After what they did to our people, you piggyback on their efforts?”

“We had no choice,” Nola replied, her face darkening. “Our clan is in shambles. We needed any opportunity we could latch onto after the princess’ appointed knight tore us apart!” 

“All the more reason not to cling to them!” she howled. “This is not my clan. This was never what we were supposed to be! We are the crown’s enemies, not their parasites!”

Nola’s fists clenched. “What will you do about it?”

Master Yiga drew her blades. Nola did the same. “I will not allow you to bear my mark. Every single one of you dishonors it.”

Nola lifted her blades and rallied her comrades. “This is what your training was for! Don’t let our out-of-touch founder annihilate us for surviving! Fight for your glory!”

And with a thunderous cry, the Yiga Clan set upon Master Yiga, who knew she was more than a match for them.

Within the pit, Zelda and Link were working hard to scale the metal siding, the disc of sky overhead growing bigger and bigger. It was nearly nightfall, and Zelda’s clothes were damp with sweat, though her palms remained dry with the friction of the lever. She knew calluses would be there by tomorrow and felt a little grateful. They would be tangible proof that she was no idle monarch. She would not sit and wallow, as she was prone to do. She would dig herself out of her own grave.

“We’re almost there!” Link said between heavy pants. Indeed, the rim was mere feet away, all but beckoning to them with the promise of rest. “I don’t know how we’re gonna stop this thing to start climbing.”

“We won’t, because we’re going to take this thing to the top!” It wouldn’t be a graceful ascension, but their lift should be just strong enough to carry them all the way to the surface. Maybe.

He looked over at her, sweat channeling into the crease in his brow. “You sure?”

_No._ “Positive!”

They threw the last of their strength into the last few feet, going up, up, up until they reached the lip. Zelda gulped in the fresh night air, enjoying the chilly breeze. Link sighed with relief, and they kept cranking.

The elevator shuddered beneath their feet. Zelda heard the unmistakable sound of gears jamming up and pushing each other out of place. In a flash, Link’s arm wrapped around her waist. “One, two, three!”

Together they leaped in tandem through the air, just as the elevator crumbled to pieces beneath their feet. Zelda flung her arms around him in midair. In the next heartbeat, Link grabbed at the edge of the pit with his free hand, and in the next they were dangling from the edge.

She glanced over her shoulder and watched the pieces of her elevator fall into the darkness from whence they came.

She gazed at him, stunned and falling for him all over again. “Such perfect timing!”

“Of course.” His voice was strained. “I’m gonna need you to grab the edge.”

“Right!” She reached up and grabbed the edge with both hands. They hauled themselves up and over the edge, panting as they flopped onto their backs to rest their weary limbs. 

She drank in the starry night sky, breathing the fresh air untouched by damp cave walls or the smell of the dead. They were free. They were home!

Zelda’s hand scrabbled around until it found Link’s. “Thank you,” she said between gasps. “Thank you for all the times down there when you saved my life.”

She heard his smile in his voice, right beside her ear. “And thank you for just the same.”

They stood and took in their surroundings. On one side of the pit stood a tall ledge that led to snowy mountains of the highlands beyond. On the other side was a large iron archway topped by three lanterns, the biggest on top adorned with a Yiga eye. The archway framed and jutted out over what seemed like a blank wall. Link immediately began walking towards the wall.

“That’s a doorway into the Yiga Hideout,” he explained. “The Sheikah Slate could probably open it with complete silence, but we’ll have to do it manually. And from there we’ll have to sneak around in the hideout until we can make it out the other side.”

He started to lead her to one side of the wall when suddenly a chunk of it spun and stuck out perpendicular to the rest. Out fled the Yiga warriors, climbing over one another as they fled their hideout and sprinted for the path into the highlands. They skittered across the clearing like a swarm of bugs, screaming in fear and looking every which way, uncertain where the threat originated. Zelda counted only a dozen, maybe two, of them as Link drew his sword and flung his arm out, shielding her from an onslaught.

But the Yiga fighters paid no attention to them, breaking around the pair like a stream parting around a rock. Bizarrely enough, they seemed wholly uninterested in their own weapons, scattering sickles and bows in their wake as they raced for the hills.

Suddenly, a Yiga Clan warrior appeared right before Zelda in a burst of smoke and prayer flags. Her brown eyes were the only fierce thing about her. She walked with a limp and carried herself gingerly, like her whole body was smarting. Link brandished his sword and moved into the woman’s path, but she barely had enough strength to brush her black hair out of her face before she collapsed at their feet.

“I mean you no harm,” she pleaded. “I am Master Nola of the Yiga Clan, and I beg for your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!! They did it, fellas!!! But the fight's only just begun. Who knows what's gonna happen next? Thanks for reading and leaving kudos, I'm so glad to hear your feedback!!!


	12. The Execution

Link didn’t move a muscle, staring down at Master Nola with immutable contempt. She was a pitiful picture, gasping for breath and so fragile that Zelda thought she could push her over with one hand. “What’s happening here?” asked Zelda.

“The first Yiga master!” she cried. “She was supposed to be our salvation, but instead she chose to kill us all. This is all that’s left.”

They looked to the handful of warriors scrambling up the ledge into the Gerudo Highlands, half of them too wounded to make the climb. 

Master Yiga had wanted the help of her followers, and instead she was slaughtering them. It made no sense. “Why is she doing this?”

“We didn’t live up to her standard,” she wheezed, clutching her ribs. “My clan has struck against the crown for ages, but now I beg its help. Help me save what’s left of it, and--and we will all submit for whatever punishment the crown deems fitting!”

His grip tightened on his sword. “The most fitting punishment is death.”

“Link!” Zelda clamped a hand on his shoulder. Wasn’t he the one who said they should move out of the past? It was, admittedly, an extreme case for forgiveness, but Zelda would protect all of Hyrule, even those who sought to undermine it.

She turned to Master Nola and said, “We will help you. Where is Master Yiga?”

She threw her arm back toward the hideout. “A few others are holding her off, but they won’t last long.”

“ENOUGH!”

The word filled the air like a storm, cracking across the room and into the highlands. The snow on the hills quivered and then collapsed, sliding down and filling the pass that could lead them to safety. The Yiga clan banded together, watching the skies.

Zelda followed their gaze and saw Master Yiga streak through the sky, arcing brutally in the light of the full moon. She shot towards them, sickles poised to strike at her own followers. 

“Go!” 

Link obeyed, racing over to the Yiga Clan and leaping up to meet Master Yiga. Their blades clashed and she let out an unearthly scream.

“You’re defending your enemies?” she shrieked. “Are you a fool?”

“I’m a loyal knight,” he retorted through gritted teeth. “I do as my princess bids.”

“Then she’s the fool. I would pity you if you weren’t her right hand!”

Furiously and skillfully they waltzed around the clearing, but Link’s strength was waning after their journey through the dungeon and the climb out of it. She watched as Master Yiga twisted gracefully away from his strike when he’d been counting on her weight to catch himself, sending him tumbling to the ground. He was rising but slowly, his lightning-fast reflexes weighed down by weariness. Seeing the opportunity to end this fight once and for all, Master Yiga reared up with her deadly sickle.

“Stop!”

Zelda’s voice echoed across the clearing. Everyone came to a standstill. Master Yiga turned to her, a smirk slicing across her face. She was unbeatable, besting both her own clan and the finest swordsman Hyrule had ever seen. Zelda knew the only thing that could end the bloodshed, and what would save her dear knight, was a sacrifice. _I got you, Link._

She strode around the pit toward Master Yiga, dignity and strength in each step. The master regarded her like a fox deciding whether to pounce. “I’m the one you want!” she cried out, throwing her arms to her sides. 

There was no plan, no ruse. There was only risk, and the conviction that if the only thing she could do to save her kingdom was lose her life for it, then she would be happy to give. “I’m the person you betrayed the Sheikah to kill! Just take me!”

“No!” Link screamed, voice hoarse as he stumbled toward her, tripping over a fallen bow. He stretched his hand out and tried to stand again, but his legs wobbled underneath him and he instantly collapsed. “Zelda!”

Master Yiga didn’t wait another minute. She shot towards her with an outstretched hand and yanked her off the ground, lifting her into the air and dangling her above the pit they’d just crawled out of. 

“Climbing out of that tomb is no mean feat,” hissed Master Yiga. “You’re a fearsome foe, I grant you. And yet you lay yourself at my feet, sacrificing yourself to save those you brand enemies!”

Zelda forced away the instinct to grasp for Master Yiga’s other arm, to kick her legs in search of a surface that wouldn’t come, to look down at the pit that would now turn into her tomb. She stared squarely up at Master Yiga and felt, for the first time, that she was every bit the queen she was meant to become.

“I have painstakingly rebuilt Hyrule after a century of destruction. I have fed, clothed, and protected my people. I have built incredible defenses against foes greater than you. My kingdom will survive without me. But what about the Yiga Clan?”

If she would die, then she knew Hyrule would take care of itself after her death. She would leave it capable, defensible, resilient in the face of an uncertain future. She couldn’t say the same for the Yiga Clan.

“You have single-handedly wiped out your own clan and, in doing so, your story from the pages of history. You may kill me, and you may take my kingdom, but you will do so alone, and so it will not remain in your hands for long. We have prepared for another Calamity; do you really think with all its might that it could stand up to you?”

Master Yiga was incensed, the blue in her eyes blazing. “Yes, I do! With the power of the Yiga Clan--”

“What Yiga Clan?” she scoffed. “You annihilated them yourself! They begged us to defend them from you!”

“They’re cowards, all of them!”

“No, they’ve just changed.” The world changed after the Calamity. It was time Zelda change with it. It was what the tomb taught her. It was what Link already knew. “But you’ll never see how that’s a good thing. Because of that, you’re doomed to fail.”

Master Yiga let out another shrieking wail and hurled Zelda down into the tunnel. 

She heard Link scream, but she felt an odd sense of peace. There was something comforting about the weightlessness she experienced and the certainty that this was the right decision. Hyrule would survive. For all Link said about the dangers of certainty, she was glad to be certain of that. 

She had no regrets as she fell down, down--

Light flashed in her eyes. Acrid smoke filled her nostrils. Red paper fluttered in her face. Arms caught her in midair, and then more smoke stung her eyes. She closed them, the wind whirling in her ears.

Her stomach jolted with the sudden impact with solid ground. She opened them again and found herself landed safely on the other side of the pit, in the arms of a gasping Master Nola. Master Nola gripped her tightly, her eyes looking over Zelda’s shoulder. Even now, she could hear the indignant cry of Master Yiga behind her. “What have you done?” Zelda spluttered. “She was supposed to kill me!”

She shot her a withering look as she set her on her feet. “I could not allow that. Besides, your knight has used your plan to create a plan of his own.”

A rasping scream pierced the air. She looked across and saw Master Yiga writhing in midair, two arrows piercing her throat. Across the gap was Link on his knees with a red Yiga bow in hand, glaring at Master Yiga as she squirmed on high. Emboldened Yiga Clan warriors rushed to his flanks, picking up the bows scattered on the ground as they fired on their founder. Some arrows found their mark, embedding themselves in Master Yiga’s torso, but others missed and soared toward Zelda and Master Nola. Seeing the oncoming bolts, Master Nola grabbed Zelda’s arm and teleported once again, causing a wave of nausea to rise up in Zelda as they were whisked across the pit, coming to rest behind the line of archers. Link fired like a machine, grabbing arrows from the ground or the others’ quivers with mechanical efficiency. He didn’t even stand to fire properly, though he was just as good a shot on one knee as on two feet. She noticed him glance over his shoulder once, just once, to verify that she was all right.

The fight rapidly became an execution. Master Yiga was unable to combat the constant stream of arrows, even to dodge or hide. Absolutely skewered by arrows, she let out one last ghastly howl that morphed into a death rattle as her body buckled, the bright blue light fading from her eyes. Like a stone in a pond, Master Yiga fell straight down the pit, her white hair fluttering like a flag of surrender.

The archers broke rank. Link climbed to his feet with the help of the warriors at his side. Zelda went towards him as he cast aside the bow and closed the distance between them quick, flinging his arms around her. He was exhausted, spent, relieved. She was surprised, but she caught him and all the weight he threw on her; he had done enough. 

He damn near growled in her ear, “What did I say back at the Iron Knight?”

“Wh-what?”

“Don’t _ever_ do that again.” She could feel his bruised body shuddering against her, his fingers knotting into her tunic.

“I won’t. I won’t.”

He let out a sigh and rested his head against her shoulder for a moment, and then he peeled off her and drew his sword once again. He brandished it half-heartedly at Master Nola and almost lost his balance in the process. Master Nola watched its path and then looked up at Link in an empty sort of way. She was too broken to be threatened.

“Swear to her,” he panted. “Swear on the Golden Goddesses that you are loyal to Princess Zelda. Right now, or I’ll run you through.”

All three of them knew Link was too weak to fight, but Master Nola eagerly knelt before her, bowed her head, and placed her hand over her heart. “I swear on Din, Nayru, and Farore that I am loyal to Princess Zelda and the crown of Hyrule.”

Link put away the Master Sword and wavered on his feet once again, upright only thanks to Zelda’s support. “Good. Now, Your Highness, I think I need a physician.” 

“Quick!” Zelda barked. “Get us an escort to the Lomei Labyrinth! He needs food and medicine!”

For a heartbeat, Zelda wondered if Master Nola would go back on her vow as soon as the threat had passed. A nagging feeling in the back of her mind that sounded an awful lot like Link reminded her that the Yiga could be incredibly cunning, deceptive, and would surely be the first to break a vow on the Golden Goddesses.

But then Master Nola marshaled her remaining clan members with sharp urgency, ordering the fetching of medical supplies and sand seals, and Zelda felt confirmed in her assessment that the Yiga Clan were no longer a threat. Besides, if they were, she doubted Link would allow himself to succumb to weakness.

They were escorted through the Yiga Hideout and out to Karusa Valley, drenched in red Yiga blood and red Yiga bodies. Zelda choked back her horror as they led Link down the slope skirting around corpses and trying in vain to ignore the stench of death. Master Nola remained facing forward, not permitting herself the opportunity to look at her fallen fellows. Where the solid rock turned into sand sat a pair of sand seals and a sled, just like the supply sled the royal expedition used. Zelda suddenly remembered her guard Samantha noting the presence of the Yiga Clan at Digdogg Bridge. She’d have to ask Master Nola about that.

They lay Link on the sled, and Zelda knelt beside him. Two other Yiga Clan members leaped on as well, with Master Nola sitting at the rear while her two comrades took the reins of the seals.

“The others must remain here,” she said. “They’re too wounded to travel across the desert.”

“We can send aid once we’re back at camp,” Zelda replied. “Will they be all right until then?”

She nodded. “We have supplies, but they’ll need a physician’s attention.”

“All right. Let’s hurry!”

Master Nola commanded the drivers, who snapped the reins and set them off across the sand. It wasn’t lost on Zelda that they had spent the day crossing this territory in winding paths underground, overcoming defenses meant to stop them. And here they were, practically flying home like it was the easiest thing on the world.

She took Link’s hand, watching him wince at every slight change of direction, at every hint of a bump. “It’s all right,” she cooed, stroking his hand with her thumb. “You’ll be all right.”

His blue eyes fluttered open. Desperation flashed in his tired face. “How was I supposed to save you from the pit? We couldn’t count on Master Nola.”

She stroked his blond hair splashed in a halo on the wooden sled. “I was saving you, Link. I would gladly surrender my life for you and my kingdom. It’s what you have volunteered a hundred times over and have seen through once.”

“But that’s my job.” His voice was hoarse. “Not yours.”

“It is my job as princess to do what is best for her people. If it was sacrificing my life, so be it.”

“Don’t do it.” She could see tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. “You’re my purpose. I can’t lose you.”

Zelda could not determine what the future held for them. She could not know what lay in store, no matter how much she researched and explored. This, though, could provide a certainty, a tentpole of sorts that could help shape the future as they stepped into it.

“You won’t.”

He sighed. “Thank you.” 

“I love you, Link.”

“I love you, too.” He closed his eyes.


	13. Out of the Past

“There won’t be much I can do to save you.”

Master Nola’s brow furrowed over her dark, troubled eyes. They sat in the far end of the medical tent, each perched on the edge of a cot as Gerudo physicians sent by Riju methodically tended to their sudden handfuls of new patients. The physicians unanimously cut the Yiga master a wide berth, but they watched the proceedings warily, protective of the princess. “I had figured as much.”

Zelda had conferred with Link and the guards about the unusual circumstances in which the Yiga Clan (or what was left of it) was now in their custody. Their actions from the previous night were heroic, and the master’s loyalty to the crown was genuine, but those things did not offset millennia of terroristic treason. The Yiga Clan would have to be punished.

Zelda tapped her finger on the edge of the cot’s frame, wishing there was something she could say to soften the blow. Even to the Master of the Yiga Clan, Zelda wasn’t good at breaking bad news. “Saving the princess’ life is not inconsequential, least of all to me. My people will demand punishment, but I will not sentence you or your clan to death.”

Master Nola bowed her head. “Your Highness, I am deeply moved by your sympathy, but I must confess. We knew what was under the labyrinth. At least, we believed in the rumors. And after losing our former master, we clung to them because we believed those rumors would lead to our salvation.”

An uncomfortable feeling of familiarity settled in Zelda’s stomach. “Is that why you protected our supply route?”

Master Nola gasped, lifting her head. “You noticed?”

“Only at the most recent trip. We realized you were protecting us, but I was the one who refused to recognize that that was a bad sign.” Once again, she thought of Link’s words and her crass dismissal of them. “We will conduct a full investigation when we return to the castle. I will vouch for you when the trial comes, and your willful surrender will help your case, but my people will not feel as safe with you as I do. They will demand prison.”

Master Nola nodded, a slight scowl appearing on her face. “I would expect nothing less from the people of Hyrule.”

Neither would Zelda, but she had expected far less from the Yiga master sitting before her. Hylians, for all their durability, were not the most forgiving folk. It was their ire Zelda remembered when she hadn’t yet obtained the sacred sealing power, but even Zelda would have doubted the Yiga Clan’s turn for good if she hadn’t seen it herself.

“I want to know something,” she said tentatively, as though she were once again checking for broken tiles as they crossed a pit. “I want to know why you saved me. Even if it is the most selfish, most cynical reason. I want the truth, even if it’s just that you thought saving me would mitigate your sentence.”

Master Nola bit her lip, considering the question--or, perhaps, how best to word her answer. “I was raised among Sheikah who blamed the royal family for the state of Hyrule. I was the most radical one who made the leap to joining the Yiga Clan. I believed the royal family was selfish and inept, and that they let Hyrule fall.

“And then you appeared in our own hideout--I don’t know how, but you did. I admit to a certain amount of selfishness when I begged for your help. These people were my responsibility, and I would do anything to protect them. Maybe I would have betrayed you once you killed Master Yiga and carried out our mission. I cannot say what I would do, but I wasn’t making any plan for the future because it seemed foolhardy to hope we would survive Master Yiga snuffing us out.

Her face softened, bearing confusion and a touch of amazement. “You offered your life to Master Yiga for the people who have been undermining your kingdom longer than living memory. You wanted to sacrifice yourself to save a band of traitors. I never thought the royal family would show such mercy or responsibility. And if I had been wrong about that, what else had we been wrong about?”

Pride filled Zelda’s mind. Her intended sacrifice had saved Link, Hyrule, and the leader of the Yiga Clan, too. “I am honored.”

Master Yiga nodded. “And I am thankful for everything you are doing to save us still.”

“Thank you for your honesty.” Zelda stood and brushed herself off. She had one more patient to check up on “As long as I rule, people will be allowed to atone and reinvent themselves as they see fit. I make no promises, but I believe many of your clan members may one day find themselves working our military, perhaps as an intelligence division.”

Master Nola’s face lit up. “You believe so?”

“Who better than former Yiga to gather information? You’re all stealthy, capable, and strategic fighters, and you know the weaknesses of the crown better than anyone.” She smiled. “It will be a difficult proposal, but I have faith in you. We can build a bright future.”

She bowed her head. “Thank you, Your Highness. We owe you much.”

“I owe you my life, Master Nola. I will be glad to protect yours.” She held out her hand. “Now, you’re overdue for a daily check-in. Let me help you back to your bed.”

Master Nola took it and stood, and together they rejoined the others.

It was a tough sell to convince the guards that the Yiga weren’t threats any longer, but it was an even tougher sell to convince her band of researchers to pack up in the middle of their expedition. They had questions about what happened under the labyrinth, and Zelda was forthcoming with details not only because she knew they wouldn’t leave without answers, but also because, as dangerous as it may seem to tell them about their findings in case it lured them in, it was more important to impress the horrors they found there and dispel the mystery. It was the unknown that drew Zelda to this place like a moth to flame, and she knew she would not be the only one. It was her job to stop the others.

The camp was subdued. Researchers shared their findings with their fellows between packing their bags. The Yiga Clan were more or less permanently relegated to the medical tent, both due to their frail conditions and because the guard would hardly let them move. They took up watch within the tent and without.

There was so little space in the medical tent that Link received his care in his own, right next to Zelda’s. She rather thought he preferred it that way; he would not abide anyone witnessing his weakness. Still the strong, proud defender of Hyrule.

“Hello?” she called softly into the tent. An affirmative-sounding grunt answered her, and she stepped inside. Link lay in his cot, carefully tended to by Barra, Riju’s court physician. Barra had just finished rubbing a salve onto the wound in Link’s neck and was rinsing her hands in a water basin. “How is he?”

Barra bowed her head respectfully. “He is doing very well, Your Highness. This neck injury is lasting a bit longer than usual, but as long as it’s regularly medicated it should heal in time.”

She picked up a roll of bandages and snipped off a strip, then glanced back and forth. “Your Highness, would you help me dress this injury? I just need you to lift his head and shoulders.”

“Of course.” Zelda went to the end of the cot and slid her hands under Link’s shoulders, her fingers running across scars old and new. He met her eyes and gave her an upside-down smile, small and sweet. 

“Hi, Princess.”

“Hi, Link.”

She lifted his head from the cot. Barra wound the bandages around his neck and under his arm, fully covering the bite left by the Undead. Zelda lay him down again as Barra pinned the bandages and said, “Thank you for your help, Your Highness.”

“Of course. Anything for my knight.” She resisted the urge to stroke her fingers through his thick hair and asked her, “When will he be fit to travel?”

“He still needs two or three days of rest,” she replied, “and that bite will require further attention. But, Link, you should be fit to return to Hyrule Castle soon as long as you remain careful not to overexert yourself in this state. Remain within the boundaries of this camp.”

He groaned. “No shield-surfing, then?”

“No shield surfing.” She shot him a smirk and then looked up at Zelda. “I must go check on the others. Alert me if his condition changes.”

“I will. Thank you, Barra. You’re dismissed.”

She packed up her medical bag, bowed, and left the tent. Zelda perched on the edge of Link’s cot, her hand tracing along his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“A little battered, but I’ll be fine.” He grabbed her hand and settled it over his heart, gazing up at her. “What about you?”

“I’m all right, all thanks to you. I owe you so much, Link, for your loyalty and courage. I...”

She sighed. “I know I was foolish to ignore the bad signs, but you followed me all the same. I’m sorry for the danger I put you in.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere, Zelda.”

He reached up, fingers curling around a lock of her hair. He seemed to study her with an intent gaze that Zelda was rather pleased to find herself as its focus. “I’m doing an experiment of my own.”

“Oh!” she said, delighted. “What are you testing?”

He smirked. “How much I can get you to blush.”

She lifted the back of her hand to her face and, sure enough, heat met her touch. She hadn’t even realized. “When did I start?”

“After Barra left. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

Her lips pursed. Ought this remain a secret? Link was the commander of Hyrule’s military and a deeply trusted advisor, so being openly involved with him would reap accusations of favoritism or, worse, incapability. 

She gave into her urge and combed her fingers through his hair. He let out the quietest little sigh and closed his eyes. Perhaps trying to keep it secret was a fruitless venture, for she had opened Link up and cracked his stoic façade. People would notice before long.

So, they wouldn’t keep it secret. Maybe that was okay. She was rebuilding Hyrule, but it was time to guide it beyond reconstructing a memory. She had to look beyond. She had to leap into the future, and redefining courtly relationships would surely help that. 

“Sounds like we’re going to be stuck in Gerudo for another few days,” she said. “I would have let the art and historian researchers continue their studies, but the engineers and architects would be furious with me.”

“So, we’re all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

“I know,” she said with a frown. “I would have loved to check up on Vah Naboris and possibly squeeze in some study of the Seven Goddesses.” She remembered traveling across the desert upon the back of Vah Naboris, Urbosa piloting her confidently at her side. “It’ll be nice finally to be home, but I’ll miss the views.”

He smirked up at her. “I don’t mind the view right now.”

She bit her lip. “You know, you were never this...”

“Cocky?”

“Brash,” she continued with a look. “Something changed in the dungeon. For both of us, I’d wager.”

“Of course, it did.” His hand reached up to her cheek, tugging gently down. “I don’t have to hide what I feel anymore.”

She might have said something, but it got muffled when their lips met. His hands ran down her sides and found a home on her waist; her own cradled his face, elbows braced against the cot. Her hair fell around them, becoming a curtain that shielded them from the outside world.

When she pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded. He was the picture of contentment. “All this time, I had no idea if you still loved me. I thought you had fallen out of it just as I had fallen in it. But I can say it now. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She raised a brow. “I could get used to this.”

He chuckled. “Now who’s the cocky one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everybody! This was a ton of fun to write, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Thank you for all your kudos and comments, and I hope to see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! This was partially inspired by "Park Rangers and Other Complications" by bhujerban, so if anyone wants to read a proper Archaeologist!Zelda AU, that's the fic for it. Updates every day!


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